One of Five
by Daalny
Summary: The loss of senses. A/U of sorts during Season 2.
1. Chapter 1

The telegram had come to Crawley house, Moseley had immediately made his way to Downton Abbey to hand deliver the telegram. With the war the telegram could bring devastating news. Lord Grantham opened it his face showing puzzlement.

"What is it? What does it say?" Cora demanded.

"Crawley injured stop. Sent to England stop."

"That's it?" Mary asked.

"Yes, now we wait."

Mary did not sleep that night, she and Matthew had made a promise to one another on that platform. They would wait until after the war to marry. She tried to write a letter to Isobel but found whenever her pen touched paper the words in her mind would flee. Did she already know he was injured? Had the Red Cross gotten to her first? In the morning she made her way to the Hospital she stayed the entire day. Sybil told him of the telegram and he sighed.

Major Richard Clarkson shrugged off his uniform jacket and put on his white coat transforming into Dr. Clarkson. A new batch of arrivals would be arriving shortly. The vans were approaching, he could hear the engines idling, slamming doors signaled the medics exit and they began picking up stretchers. Clarkson's keen eyes noted a heavily wounded soldier. "First in." The nurses and other medics began bringing in the wounded. Dr. Clarkson was about to go inside when he heard, "last one, Crawley."

Clarkson ran towards the van, "Crawley? Captain Matthew Crawley?"

The medic shook his head, "No sir, a woman named Crawley."

Gritting his teeth he moved towards the van as the medics withdrew the last stretcher. On it was none other than Isobel Crawley. She was in the blood stained uniform of the Red Cross. Some of it had been cut away to reveal a purple and swollen arm. There was also copious bruising and cuts to her face.

"That arm of hers is pretty bad and they knew the journey would jostle it so they loaded her up with morphine." The medic informed Clarkson as they removed Isobel from the transport. Clarkson had Isobel placed in a corner and directed his nurses to erect screens around the area. He wanted her separated from the men until he could come up with more suitable area.

"Nurse Crawley" he barked as other patients were being situated.

Sybil rushed up to him, "Yes, is cousin Matthew here?"

The look on Dr. Clarkson's face let Sybil know that something was wrong. He walked towards the screened area and opened the corner. Sybil went in first and then stopped cold, "Cousin Isobel."

"I'm glad your sister is here today" Clarkson muttered.

Between Mary and Sybil they cut her out of her uniform and got her clean and into fresh clothes. Her arm was then set by Dr. Clarkson as she lay unconscious. "I can't leave here yet, go tell your Father what has happened."

Mary left with Sybil at the end of her shift to tell their father what they had learned

"Isobel? Not Matthew?" Lord Grantham asked his daughter confusion marring his voice.

"I saw her with my own eyes!" Said Mary almost hysterically.

Moving swiftly to his desk he snatched up the telegram his eyes darting over the paper, "Oh I'm stupid, it just says Crawley doesn't have a first name or rank. Just Crawley."

Edith grabbed the telegram wanting to see for herself. "Do you think Matthew knows his Mother has been sent here?"

"Does it mean he'll be sent home?" Mary asks.

"I'll telephone the War Department, see what I can find out."

"I'll go back to the hospital" Sybil says tiredly.

"Isn't your shift over?" Edith asks

Sybil shrugs, "Yes but someone should stay with her for when she wakes up. I know Dr. Clarkson would appreciate that."

"I'll go, you need to rest." Mary announced.

The rest of the family seemed taken aback but Mary took no notice. She had promised Matthew on that train platform that she would look after Isobel and she intended to keep that promise. Later that night she found Dr. Clarkson sitting by her cot.

"Is she...how is she?"

"Out, I wanted to make sure she felt no pain when we set her arm."

Mary regarded the Doctor, he was a staple of the village and even her own home yet she knew so little about him. She noted that he looked like he hadn't slept in months, what with the war that might even be true. "Will you be going to your cottage?"

"No, I have a bed stashed in my office. I stay here most nights now what with the influx of wounded. If you need to leave at anytime let the nurses know."

If Mary was insulted she didn't let it show she merely lifted a book, "I'm quite set Doctor."

Clarkson walked toward his office and removed his coat before shedding some of his uniform and boots. He all but collapsed onto his cot and fell asleep. The first shades of dawn woke him. He padded softly to a basin and filled it. He washed his face and shaved before changing into a fresh uniform. He found Mary still at Isobel's bedside three quarters of the way through her book. "I can telephone the house if you like, have someone collect you?"

"No need doctor, I'm sure I can have Branson take me back when he brings Sybil."

Clarkson scoffs at his blunder, of course that would be the logical thing. Mary watches as he gently lowers the blanket so he can listen to Isobel's chest. He then methodically touches certain points on Isobel's left arm and nods in satisfaction.

The Crawley sisters swap places and Dr. Clarkson is certain that Isobel will begin waking in a few hours. The morphine slowly leaving her system. He has a syringe and vial ready should she need more. Around noon a moan from the curtained area has alerted a nurse. When it is determined that she is indeed waking she gets Dr. Clarkson. He sits next to her and takes her good hand in his. "Isobel? Can you hear me?"

She inhales shakily before gripping his hand tightly, her face pinched in pain. Clarkson quickly gives orders for morphine, albeit less than she had in the field.

A quick pinch and then warmth spreads through Isobel the searing pain from her arm reduced to a tolerable ache. When she can breathe steadily again she turns in the direction of Dr. Clarkson. Once again Dr Clarkson asks, "Isobel? Can you hear me?"

"Yes...Richard?" She croaks.

"Yes, it's Dr. Richard Clarkson. You're at Grantham Hospital. You're safe."

"But France?" Her voice was small and confused.

"What is the last thing you remember?" He prodded.

"They needed me at another hospital, we were en route. I remember waking up on the ground then a voice telling me I was going home. Then here...now."

"How do you feel?"

Isobel considered the question, "The arm feels better now you gave me some morphine. I'm sore" she gripped his hand tighter, "I seem to be having trouble with my eyes."

Instantly Clarkson was on his feet. He called for a scope and began inspecting her eyes all the while Isobel talked. " don't feel as if something got in them. Not like sand or anything, my vision is blurred. I can see light and shapes but nothing in detail."

The doctor sat down and exhaled loudly before taking her hand again, "Well you know as well as I that the incident probably rattled everything in your skull like marbles in a jar."

At his analogy she laughed a little and he continued, "You also probably know that this could be temporary-"

"Or permanent" she cut him off.

Her fingers clutched his and he returned the pressure, "I have to make rounds."

She turned in his general direction and gave him a watery smile which broke his heart. "The others, at the Abbey, please don't tell them about this. The arm yes, this" she points at her head, "development...I couldn't bear it."

"You have my word."

During rounds Dr Clarkson tells the nurses to announce their presence before going behind the screen on the premise of privacy.

Days pass and Isobel is gaining ground, her pain is becoming more tolerable. The morphine dose is backed off allowing her more hours of alertness. She wants to walk the grounds, when she mentions this to Clarkson he offers to join her. It becomes a habit, a ritual of sorts. During his morning break he would come to her bedside and she would push her arms into a dressing gown large enough to accommodate her cast. Clarkson would stand on her right side so she could use her good arm to hold onto him if needed. In those first days he was sorely needed.

Her blurred eyesight in concert with the daylight and movement made her dizzy. So much so that on their first walk she barely made it onto the soft grass outside. She groaned before doubling over, having an inkling as to what was coming Clarksons arms quickly encircled her waist to hold her up and angle her in such a way that she wouldn't vomit on herself. The commotion quickly drew the attention of other soldiers which brought a flock of nurses. He quickly told the nurses that it was just nausea from the morphine. Isobel quickly agreed with him letting him know it was definitely not morphine that caused the episode. He withdrew his handkerchief and gently wiped her mouth. "Thank you Richard" she said as her cheeks burned with shame.

She had called him by name it was becoming a more frequent occurrence and he found he loved it. He had already cleaned her face but wanted an excuse to touch her again, his forefinger brushed a cheek, "Don't fret."

Slowly Isobel was beginning to reorient herself in space. Overtime she was able to loosen her grip on the good doctor. Now when they walked she would draw level with him so her arm and shoulder would touch his. This point of contact was able to give her mind the information it needed. The day was nearing for Isobel to leave the hospital and her anxiety was rising. It was true she was healing. The cast would be off soon and only Dr. Clarkson knew of her vision impairment. She had adjusted to the hospital, she had enough vision to distinguish light sources. If a door were open in the daytime she could navigate through it. She could make out the shape of people but not their faces. However, she couldn't read print or pour herself a cup of tea. This worried Isobel for she had been invited damn near ordered to Downton Abbey for a dinner.

On their morning walk Isobel clung to to Richard's arm more for comfort than for orientation. "If you just told them."

"NO!" her shout drew the attention of some soldiers. Realizing her mistake she gripped him tighter and whispered, "No, I won't tell them. Not yet. Can't you tell them that it's too soon?"

He snorts, "The cast will be off soon, Sybil has read your chart, and other than your eyes there is nothing wrong with you."

Frustration was rising in Isobel, "Say it's something else...lie"

It was his turn to hiss, "I won't lie and tell them that you are ill, when you are not. Sooner rather than later you will have to go to them."

They near a corner of the garden and will begin the last length before going back inside. The tension in Isobel's shoulders release and she pulls up again, "Would you come with me, be my escort?" she asks. Even though she probably couldn't see it he rolled his eyes. While their new form of familiarity was something Richard cherished he didn't want to be a relegated to a prop at a formal dinner. Isobel could sense his mood and turned to look towards him. As a man he noted that her brown eyes were beautiful as a Doctor he noted the presence of Nystagmus.

"Please Richard."

It was the please that undid him.


	2. Chapter 2

The dinner was scheduled for Friday, Isobel had asked if Dr. Clarkson could come and everyone readily agreed. In the meantime Isobel would go to Crawley House. On Tuesday afternoon Isobel was back at her home. Dr. Clarkson went with her under the guise of "home inspection". Furniture that she may trip over was moved and with Isobel's memory she was able to navigate. With her arm still in cast Isobel asked Mrs. Bird for sandwiches, a food she could eat one handed. It was during a meal that a panic swept over her. How could she maintain the illusion that she could see during a meal? How would she know where the serving spoons were or how high the plate would be?

She approached the problem as she did most things in her life, methodically and with sheer determination. She knew Carson's table would be laid out meticulously so she could count the utensils from outside in to know which one to use. If she ran her palm along the tablecloth she would feel the bottom of any glass or flute of liquid. The problem lay with the serving dishes. With her left hand still in a cast it was awkward to grip anything. Nonetheless she could raise her left hand to touch the serving dish to ascertain its position.

When Clarkson came over that night he found her in the sitting room with two spoons in her hand. She was gripping them in such a manner that she could manipulate them with one hand. He watched as she scooped up what appeared to be bits of paper, a necklace and other household objects between the two spoons before putting them on a plate.

"You're managing very well." He said softly and she jumped, so engrossed in her task she didn't hear him enter.

"I'm sorry" he said again softly.

"I forgive you" she puts down the spoons and turns toward him. "I want to apologize to you for dragging you into this dinner."

Clarkson was struck by her words, it was rare that she uttered apologies and he knew she was being utterly sincere. "I accept your apology, as I say you're managing well...do you want a cane for outside?"

It was her turn to roll her eyes at him, "there is only one old lady in this village with a cane"

At this they both laughed richly. Richard couldn't remember the last time he had laughed openly. He was coming to crave these visits he wondered for a split second if she did too?

Another hurdle would be dressing. Her wardrobe was already sorted into two groups Formal and Casual. Her sight gave her very limited views on color, more like light and dark. She touched the fabric pieces if she had doubts as to the fabrics make she would rub it against her cheek. Her black gloves were the longest of any she owned. The silver pair were the thickest. The dark burgundy had an odd hem. She filed all this information away.

The day before the dinner he came over early in the morning to remove her cast. Mr. Moseley had the day off so she herself greeted the doctor at the door. He saw she was wearing a striped blouse with a blue skirt. As he walked into the house she turned and he noted a problem. He wrestled with his conscious before opening his mouth to tell her.

"Isobel, your clothes."

She turned back around and began exploring herself with soft pats. She started at her shoulders before inspecting the row of buttons, her hands then smoothed over her waist around her hips until she found the problem. Her belt was askew and her nimble fingers quickly rectified the problem. "Thank you Richard."

She led them to the back porch where she sat down. She heard him open his bag and remove something that sounded like paper. "Paper?"

"Newspaper. To catch the plaster, no need to make more work for Moseley."

He then placed a towel over her lap and maneuvered her arm over it. He moved to his bag and she noted that his shoes made a heavier noise she then remembered that he was most likely in his uniform and his boots would be louder than his dress shoes. His left hand gripped below her elbow she knew it was his left for she could feel the coolness of his ring. "Cutters coming up."

She was glad for the warning, *Snick* *snick* the cutters made a channel through the plaster. Separators came next widening the channel and the with a few well placed pulls the cast was off. Next cotton wool soaked in water and a touch of antiseptic swept over her skin. Wiping away the accumulated dead skin. As he gently cleaned her arm she was struck by the intimate nature of it all. She felt a rush of desire knowing that he had most likely seen her without her clothes on. Sorrow then replaced that euphoric feeling, she would never see anyone again.

He could feel the change in her emotions through her body. "What is it Isobel? Did I hurt you?"

She couldn't lie to him but she could withhold some of the truth. "I was just thinking here you are looking at my arm, and I won't be able to see anyones arm or anything for that matter. She strained her ears to pick up any noise from him. What she did hear was the whisper of fabric and she felt the rush of air as something landed on the chair next to her. He had removed his white coat and had thrown it over a chair. Scrapping was then heard as a chair was pulled across the stone ground. A warm hand touched hers and guided it to his other hand. "Look my arm."

She pulled away from him and he determinedly took her hand again and placed in his own, "Look at it Isobel" he commanded.

Her fingers began in his palm before tracing each of his fingers. The forefinger on his lefthand had an odd curve to it. "I broke it playing with some mates when I was 11" he supplied. Encouraged her fingers traveled the inside of his arm and he gasped.

"Sorry" she muttered.

"It's all right" he murmured. Running her hands along his arm she remembered that he most likely had his sleeves rolled up underneath his white coat. All the details she could picture in her mind. More pressure was applied so she could feel bones and tendons instead of just ghosting over the skin. Her fingers then returned to his hand.

"Name the carpals" He demanded softly.

Her fingers found each one before giving name to them, "Hamate, Capitate, Trapezoid." She went on naming all the carpals before naming the metacarpals. She then moved to the wrist and named the bones there giving each one a touch. When she was done she entwined her hand with his and she smiled. She could hear him sigh in contentment.

_Richard_ her mind thought. She didn't know when her thoughts had started identifying him as Richard and not Dr. Clarkson. He still hadn't let go of her hand and it occurred to her that he called her Isobel now. Perhaps the dinner wouldn't be that bad?


	3. Chapter 3

"Thank you Mr. Moseley" Dr. Clarkson said with sincerity as he was led inside. He was told that Isobel was waiting for him in the sitting room. As he neared the room he saw the fire was lit and she was seated on an armchair seemingly staring into the fire. She was dressed in a sleeveless gown. He then remembered that with the removal of the cast the sensitive skin would make it impossible to wear something with fine sleeves. Also having her arms bare would allow for more of her skin's surface to come in contact with anything giving her information. He let his footfalls be a tad heavy as not to startle her as he did before. It worked she turned towards the door, only again his eyes noted that hers danced back and forth with nystagmus. He hoped that no one else would pick up on it.

His thoughts were interrupted as Moseley announced that the car was here to pick them up. The lanky butler left the room and when Richard was sure he was out of earshot asked "Are you ready?"

"Yes." As she stood he watched as her fingers ran up the back of the armchair, along it's wood trim before clenching around a shawl. He watched as her hands unfurled the long piece of fabric and settled it around her.

"Wait"

"What?" Isobel asks, again exploring herself in soft pats.

He moves forward before aligning the shawl more squarely, allowing the triangle in the back to become more aligned. As his hands rearranged the shawl she felt lightheaded, a little dizzy, and it wasn't from her eyes. His hands were warm and touching the skin of her collarbone, it had been a long time since someone had touched her.

"Richard" she said softly.

His hands stilled gently resting against her skin, "Yes?"

Her own hands traveled along his arms to grasp his hands,"I want to thank you again for doing this." She wanted to kiss him but she was afraid to.

His whispered under his breath, "Anything for you."

Her hearing had become more acute since the incident and she doubted she would have it without being injured. A_nything?_ She mentally kicked herself for not kissing him. Her self flagellation turned into dread when he mumbled, "Come on lets go to dinner."

She smiled and blinked heavily, "Oh yes, this bloody dinner."

He was taken aback he had never heard her utter anything nearing a curse. He threaded her arm through his and they walked towards the door where the car was waiting. The drive was relatively short in terms of mileage but to the two occupants in the car it felt like an eternity. Branson and Clarkson helped her down from the car as she took a step she swayed a little.

Instantly the Doctor was by her side and he whispered, "Vertigo?"

During their walks at the hospital she told him about the disorientation she felt. Bright lights seemed to lengthen and streak across her field of vision. Almost like when someone extinguished a candle in a dark room and the afterimage danced in front of your eyes. To her the lights danced all the time swirling and blurring. The dizziness was incredible.

"The house lights and this uneven gravel." His left arm went around her waist his hand anchoring on a hip. This point of contact allowed her to orient herself. With him holding her she no longer felt as if she was going to fall up into the sky. As they neared the door she went back to holding his arm. As they passed through the door she felt the heat of the fires, she could smell the food and could hear the ticking of the grandfather clock as they entered. A laugh drifted towards them to be accentuated by a gong.

"Ah, Cousin Isobel and Dr. Clarkson just in time." Lord Grantham announced. They moved towards the dining room. Isobel didn't need her eyes to tell her that all the Crawley girls were here she could smell their perfume. A step and *thump* of a cane let her know cousin Violet was on her left and she smirked in memory of the laugh she and Richard had shared over old women and canes. Richard directed her to her chair and the footmen aided her into it. They were all seated and the tinkling of glass and silverware was a pleasant sound as chit chat began.

Something passed before her field of vision and she could hear liquid being poured, must be the wine she thought.

"Let me propose a toast, to Isobel and her return!" Lord Grantham said raising his glass.

Richard ensnared his glass and held his breath as Isobel ran her hand palm down across the tablecloth before retrieving her own glass. "Isobel" everyone at the table said. She took a sip and said, "Let me say thank you to Dr. Clarkson for mending my arm."

Clarkson blushed, trust Isobel to shift the limelight from herself to another.

"Dr. Clarkson" the chorus chirped before Carson and the others came towards the table with dinner. When Carson came beside Isobel she lifted her left hand to touch the dish to ascertain the height and distance and then used her right hand to grasp both spoons.

This caught the attention of the Dowager Countess, "That is most unusual, is it the French style?"

Isobel's cheeks reddened before saying, "I couldn't use my left hand while in the cast, I learned to do things one handed. The cast came off yesterday, I guess I still think it's on."

Luckily for Isobel Edith spoke up, "Remember when I broke my wrist riding my horse Arrow? After the cast came off I felt as if my arm would float away, so used to the weight."

This sparked conversation amongst the dinner guests and drew the attention away from Isobel. The tension seemed to leave her until Cora spoke, "Shall we go through?"

Isobel's mind scrambled to remember the correct path, she pushed back in her chair and stood as she passed the other chairs her hand lightly touched them. Hoping that she was in the general direction of the door she strode forward. Remembering to pick up her heels so she wouldn't trip on the rugs she made it into the library. Sitting on the first chair she could identify she closed her eyes and reveled in the success of making it through dinner. Perhaps an hour of conversation and she could go home? Sybil sat beside her and the two began speaking of nursing.

Dr. Clarkson and Lord Grantham were still in the dining room. "She's all right isn't she? Seemed a bit quiet at dinner" Lord Grantham mused.

Dr. Clarkson inhaled, "Perhaps she's a bit hesitant to be here, the last time we were all together there was quite some friction."

At this Lord Grantham ducked his head. Dr. Clarkson remembered him being shouted at over Evelyn Napier. This made him think, while he was doctor he wasn't a Sir or a Lord. He was a servant and Grantham wasn't. Is this how Isobel felt? The daughter of a Sir but a daughter nonetheless. A widow? She had no power the only sway she holds is that she is Mother to the future heir of Downton if he can stay alive long enough to inherit it. She didn't run away to France she had no choice. In that moment he understood _it all_. If they knew she was virtually blind she would lose her last remaining facet as a human being and become, _that poor creature._

He would be damned if he let that happen.

When the two men joined the women Sybil left the sofa to speak with her father and Isobel noticed the sound level in the room increased. Dr. Clarkson was behind Isobel. Her eyes closed and she whispered, "Do sit down Richard."

He sank down beside her "How did you know it was me?"

Feeling brave she told the truth "I can smell you, that soap you use...I like it."

The two talked and sipped brandy. Isobel placed her glass on the small table in front of her. Out of the corner of his eye Richard saw that Sybil was watching her motions carefully. He didn't want to say anything to Isobel about it, he could see that she was happy and he didn't want to mar it with speculation.

A quarter of an hour later Isobel yawned and it was genuine, she was tired. Richard was able to arrange transport for them. Once again Branson was to drive them home. Richard got out at Crawley House to escort Isobel to her house.

Mr. Moseley opened the door, "Thank you Moseley you can go to bed now. I'll lock up."

"very well Mrs. Crawley." The butler said before scampering off.

"I can feel your look Richard and I'm quite capable of bolting the door." Isobel said with some mirth.

"I don't doubt it but still I will wait outside until I hear those locks click"

Something between them had changed since dinner, both of them could feel it but would they acknowledge it? She turned towards him still feeling brave and reached out with her hands to touch his chest. Fingertips making contact first before her palms flattened out and he moved her hands upward. She could feel the vibration of his soft moan underneath her hands. His own hands came up behind her back pulling her to him. She leaned forward until she could feel his exhaled breath on her face. When her nose nuzzled against his own he let his eyes close. He wanted to truly share this experience with her. Her nose bumped against his no doubt gauging distance before their lips met. She could feel his moustache and the warmth of his mouth. His lips teased hers apart before claiming her bottom lip. She kissed him back fiercely not wanting to be a coward, not wanting to lose something else that she wanted. All too soon their lips withdrew from one another and Richard opened his eyes. He took in the appearance of Isobel, face flushed, chest heaving and he burned it into his memory.

He didn't want to leave but he had to go, this was not the time or the place for what he wanted to do and she deserved better. He kissed her again softly, "Will I be seeing you at the hospital tomorrow?"

A fistful of thoughts raced through her head

_What will I do? Am I still chairwoman? Can I pass?_

The feeling of being brave was still there, if she were able to survive the nightmare dinner at Downton Abbey surely she could go to Grantham Cottage Hospital. Her hand found his face, "I'll be there."

Branson could see them from the light from the door while it was dim but it was enough to illuminate the two of them. He watched as they slowly came together. As a chauffeur he had been witness to many people engaged in many activities as he waited for a client but this was different. It was so achingly tender that he had to look away for it was not for his eyes.


	4. Chapter 4

When Clarkson returned to the car Branson asked where he should take him. Since he was dressed for dinner he asked to be taken to his cottage. With the war he was rarely at home. Generally a quick wash and change of clothes here and there. Today had been different, he had come home to bathe and dress before collecting Isobel.

Isobel, just thinking of her made him blush. As he removed his dinner jacket to hang it up he caught a trace of her perfume and he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply.

Across the village Isobel was reminiscing about the kiss she had shared with Richard. At this moment she felt young.

Both climbed into their respective beds and slept peacefully.

Come morning Isobel was terrified. Why had she agreed to go to the hospital? She tried to put these thoughts from her mind as she washed her hair. Being nearly blind hadn't hindered her personal hygiene she mused. She had kept her hair the same length for years and putting up and back had become automatic. Her hands easily found her navyblue dress.

As Isobel emerged from her room Moseley announced that Dr. Clarkson was in the sitting room.

"Good Morning, Doctor or is it Major? I'm afraid I'm not sure how to address you."

She could hear him chuckle softly.

"Doctor will do fine, most of the soldiers call me doctor it is only my superior officers that address me as Major."

"Doctor, I might have been a premature in my acceptance to come to the hospital. I...I'm not sure what I can do."

Clarkson moved to stand beside her, "Well actually that is my fault, I meant to tell you yesterday. With the wounded healing many of the family wish to take them home but have no clue as to how to tend their needs. Downton and Farley House are already at capacity. I would like it if you could organize a class of sorts with the nurses."

Isobel silently digested the information. Her mind replayed their first meeting

_If I'm to live in this village I must have an occupation. Please. Let me be useful_

She had escaped the war with her life, her limbs and nearly all of her senses. Now she was being offered an occupation. Teaching was something she could do.

"All right."

"All right" he echoed. "Are you ready to go?"

"Actually do you have a moment?" She moved towards a corner where there was a small desk and she retrieved something. Moving back towards him he saw what she carried and he hastily sucked in a breath it was a letter-from Matthew.

He took the letter with one hand and used his other to guide her to a small sofa. They sat and he opened the letter and began to read.

_Dearest Mother,_

_ I am most glad to hear that you are recovering. Mary's letter reached me before any information from the Red Cross did. I must say having her words telling me of your injury and how you were being cared for by Dr. Clarkson did more to ease my mind than the clipped typeface of the Red Cross. The lads here were quite impressed to hear that their Captain had a Mum in the war. They all send you their best as do I. By now you will probably have had your cast off. In your last letter you mentioned that. Please know that I am well as I can be. I have leave coming and I will be in York. I hope to see you all at Downton._

_ Love,_

_ Matthew_

As he finished the letter he looked up to see Isobel crying. Tears streamed down her face landing in dark splotches on her dress.

Fabric touched her hand, "You keep giving me these. Do you know how many handkerchiefs of yours I have?"

"Really, how many?" He asked.

The question caught her off guard and she stammered, "This will make number four."

They laughed together before leaving for the hospital.

They walked slowly along the path. Richard had shortened his strides to match Isobels. She had not taken his arm instead she walked next to him. Their shoulders and arms would occasionally collide as they walked. Isobel was feeling ambivalent, she wanted to thread her arm through Richards yet at the same time she knew she must learn walk unaided. Passion and pride were warring within her.

"What's the matter?" He asked softly as they neared the square.

"I know I need to readjust my orientation but the fact remains you're here next to me and I want-"

"To go behind the bike shed?"

She pealed with laughter, she turned to face him her hands coming up to waist level. He could see how her fingers splayed desperate to touch to have a connection. He reached out and took one of the those hands. As a doctor he knew that the human brain had many neural connections and that when one sense was inhibited the others would become stronger. When he touched her now it was to confirm his presence. As his hand encompassed hers she relaxed noticeably.

Making the decision for her he tucked her arm into his as they walked the rest of the way to the hospital.

Sybil watched through the window as they approached. She had visited Tom last night in the garage. He had been quiet his usual political rhetoric had been absent. He had seemed almost wistful and had kissed her with what she could only call reverence. She noted that Cousin Isobel was being escorted by Dr. Clarkson. Sybil wasn't stupid she had seen the Nystagmus in Isobel's eyes she was just unsure of what it meant. Later during rounds with Dr. Clarkson she asked about it. "Doctor Clarkson, Private Dawes in bed 7, gas blindness."

"Yes Nurse Crawley." She said with a hint of impatient.

Sybil licked her lips before continuing, "I noticed he has nystagmus but Sargent Mallory who also has gas blindness does not."

Richard stuffed his hands into the pockets of his white coat so she couldn't see that he had formed fists. He had seen Sybil's assessing glances at Isobel last night and as a nurse she would have to be blind herself or stupid not to notice. However, she hadn't come out and directly asked so he decided to play along.

"Nystagmus can be caused by any number of things. He may already have a predisposition to it there are reports of it occurring in infancy and later on in life. It's an involuntary movement."

"Limits vision?" Sybil asked.

"not necessarily, toxicity and trauma could easily cause nystagmus without the vision being affected.

"Oh" Sybil said softly and she turned away.

Richard smiled in spite of himself, of the Crawley girls he had a soft spot for Sybil. However, in this matter she was going to have to come out and say it.

Isobel stood in front of the medicine cabinet. Most of the bottles she knew by touch. The smallest vials contained adrenaline. The next size up held morphine and so on. While she couldn't see individual colors some bottles were darker. She grabbed a tall one, she felt the label in her hands and felt the top. She knew it was Iodine, she knew it. To confirm her hunch she unscrewed the cap and took a whiff. She smiled in confirmation. The other dark bottle she knew bloody well contained chloroform and that one would not be getting a sniff!

Sybil watched her as she gathered supplies. On the table before her bottles were on the right and bandages of various sizes were lined up on the left. Everything was orderly and in place. Last night at dinner she had noticed that Isobel's eyes had darted back and forth. She consulted some books to learn what it was she was seeing. Nystagmus it was called. Her research was limited to the materials she could find, during her reading she thought it was only associated with the blind.

Nonetheless here Cousin Isobel was gathering up materials. She entertained the thought of her actually being blind and found she didn't care. Isobel would never endanger a patient and she trusted Dr. Clarkson he had her here then things must be fine. Cousin Isobel was Sybil's idol, she believed in her before the others for the nursing course. She had been with her at Ripon for the debate on women. Isobel had made something of her life and she did that on her own and not through her late husband. It was because of her she believed that she could do _anything_. She thought of Tom and made a decision.

Between the Richard and Isobel they devised a home care plan for groups of patients. They would then invite the families for a group lesson on how to properly administer morphine, change dressing and how to watch for and how to treat pressure sores.

Isobel mentioned some techniques that Richard was not familiar with. He wrote these down with along with other instructions they had come up with.

"I think Sybil might suspect something." He said as his pen scrapped along the paper.

"She's a good nurse, good nurses notice things." She said as she rewound a bandage.

"That they do." He said his voice laced with affection.

She could hear him finish his order and the quiet *thunk* as the pen was laid down on the table.

"Will you take me home?"

"My pleasure" He whispered.

Isobel was able to track his movements by the sounds of his boot heels. She counted seven paces before he stopped. A rattle signaled he had hung up his white coat and was removing his Army tunic. Another rattle, no doubt his hat.

Once again her ambivalence about taking his arm was evident on her face. It was no his turn to be brave. He came alongside her their arms touching and he whispered. "Just walk with me, if you wish you can be in my arms all night."


	5. Chapter 5

They stop at Crawley House for Isobel tell Moseley and Mrs. Bird that she would be dining with Dr. Clarkson. He's not sure what he has in his pantry but he thinks he should be able to make something. As they walk along he notices she is caressing her arm. "Sore?"

"Ache, actually. Rain is on it's way."

Looking up at the sky there is no obvious sign of bad weather coming but he trusts her feeling. Many suffering from arthritis or who had previously broken bones knew the weather better than an almanac.

The cottage looms, he takes her jacket and hangs it on a hook. The then takes her right hand and places it on the wall and tells her where the large pieces of furniture are. He goes to the kitchen to let her explore on her own. He slices some bread and cheese. There is some leftover ham in the larder which he adds to the plates. Candles were lit to enhance what passed for the dinner. When he calls her over she takes two steps before shutting her eyes and groaning. He swears before blowing out the candles as quickly as he can and he rushes to her.

His large hands move to her waist to try and giver her a focus point to counteract the vertigo. She slows her breathing to get the nausea under control. He watches as she takes long flat inhales and exhales in short huffs. This cycle happens twice before she raises her head.

"Candles…sorry, I didn't think" he muttered as he pulled her close to him. Through his chest she could feel the hammering of his heart, the evidence that his words were true.

The fact that he had lit candles in an attempt to woo her made her smile. He had never treated her as an invalid. She raised a hand and found his face, "I want to see you."

His swallow was audible. "Anything for you."

He led her into the bedroom, "Wardrobe to your left, dresser beside it and a chair. Bed directly behind you."

She moved to find the wardrobe opening the door which squeaked. With his help she slowly undressed him when she was done he stood transfixed as she quietly disrobed and placed her dress on the chair before returning to him. Her hands first went to his face, he sighed when her fingernails raked his scalp making it tingle. Just by the touch of her fingertips on his neck his body was responding to hers.

Next his shoulders were explored and he couldn't help but run his hands down her flank.

"Not your turn yet." She scolded softly.

His hands instantly went to his sides, clenching in fists as he had done earlier. When her hands touched them and found them clenched she asked, "Not enjoying?"

"I'm enjoying it a bit too much" he groaned.

"Good" she whispered.

Wanting to truly see him she moved in closer, her sense of smell detecting the soap he used along with sweat of the day mingling to make a scent truly his own. A strange pattern of sound caught his attention and he realized it was raindrops on the window pane. "Listen Isobel, your storm."

She leaned in and kissed him. His arms went around her bringing her body flush against his. She was composed of softness and curves. It was his turn to feel dizzy. The warmth of her body, the smell of her perfume and the taste of her lips. Richard never really considered how much of the senses were involved in making love. He groaned when he realized that they hadn't gotten to the actual love making part yet.

Their kisses were turning carnal and his hips snapped forward involuntarily. She waked backward trusting that the bed was behind her. When the backs of her knees hit the mattress she allowed herself to fall. He followed, they didn't bother turning the covers down. One of his hands cup a breast. In retaliation she swung a leg over his hip. At her boldness he laughed in wonder. She was the first woman to surprise him. Looming over her he gently pressed her into the mattress before covering her body with his own.

Isobel was no virgin but since having her sight taken from her everything was new again. Her nose bumped into his shoulder and before she could think her tongue darted out to taste it. This act had Richard gasping, he found her mouth and kissed it soundly. The rain drowned out all sounds except for them. Heavy pants, sigh, moans and more were offered up into the small bedroom. He shifted between her thighs and became her lover. With their combined length of celibacy a languid pace was not to be had. Hands and mouths seemed to be everywhere. Mimicking her earlier move his tongue swiped a path down her neck causing her legs to tighten around his back so he did it again.

There was a roaring in Isobel's ears and she felt as if she were drowning. She was afraid, frightened of losing her other senses. "Richard" she whispered and he could hear the edge of panic in her voice.

"I'm here" he chanted. "I'm here, I'm here."

His litany allowed her to focus, she would not drown, she would not be swept away. His tongue found her neck again and she surrendered. She heard him shout her name, was he feeling lost as well? Her arms pulled him to her to let her ground him. He emitted a barking sob before his hips lost their rhythm and he stilled.

The rain continued to pound the windows and Richard had to fight to raise his head. He looked down at Isobel, her eyes dancing, she raised a shaky hand to his face, "There you are." When her fingers trailed down his face he captured the smallest one in his mouth sucking on it gently before releasing it.

They kicked down the covers and arranged themselves in the bed. Even without the storm he wouldn't send her back to Crawley House. He watched as she fell asleep, he wanted to stay awake but the cadence of her breath had him following her into dreams.


	6. Chapter 6

Storms, some love them others loathe. They can be destructive but also needed. The winds sweeping away old and decaying things leaving pristine surfaces. The rain itself cleansing areas and providing water to fill lakes and streams. Storms shake things up violently only for things to settle down.

The same storm that drew Isobel and Richard together had Sybil dashing out into the rain an old blanket over her head to see Tom in the garage. The door banged loudly as she nearly crashed through it. He took in her appearance, her fine gown juxtaposed with a cheap woolen blanket. Her face held a look of determination, he put down his screwdriver preparing for what she was going to tell him.

Her words tumbled out, "I want you to know that after the war I will come with you. Wherever you go I'll be there too."

He strode forward and kissed her, as his lips drew away he brushed a wet piece of hair from her face, "not that I'm delighted to hear that but what settled your mind?"

"Cousin Isobel, she's never been afraid to do what she wanted with her life. Do you remember Ripon?"

Tom swallowed, of course he remembered. The fight Matthew had, her fall to the ground. Him carrying her unconscious to the car. He nodded in the affirmative to her question.

Sybil continued, "She got me onto the auxiliary nursing course. She was the first one to tell me I could actually _do_ something instead of _being_ something. If I stay here after the war they'll make me stop nursing and I'll open letters, receive guests and eat dinner."

He tucked the blanket around her and she leaned in to nuzzle him whispering, "I want more than that...I want you."

A clap of thunder had Sybil jumping into Tom's arms and he laughed at her. She hit him playfully, he twirled her around before kissing her again. The same clap of thunder had woke Richard, he took a moment to see that Isobel was still asleep next to him. Her face was serene in slumber a calm counterpoint to the frenzy of her hair. Truth be told he liked the uninhibited nature of it. Save for the hospital and now this bed he had never seen a hair out of place. She was laying on her front, her arms under the pillow with her head turned to the side. Turning on his side he was able to touch the skin of her back and she sighed in her sleep.

In France rain was beginning to fall. The drops fell and beat against Matthew's Brodie helmet. As much as he hated the noise it made he hated the idea of shrapnel or God knows what else beating against his head so he left it on. His left foot itched and he ignored it the rain would be bringing more trench foot. He had heard whispers from command that an armistice would be approaching he ignored that too. Until he had the official orders in his hands everything was hearsay and long before he was soldier he was a lawyer. The dawn was approaching and with it an attack.

Mason approached him with a steaming mug of something. He smiled appreciatively at the youngman and downed the cup the warm contents lifting his spirits. As he handed the cup back he asked, "You feel it too?"

"Aye, Sir. Going to be messy."

They both nodded, this coming offensive had all the hallmarks of being a bad one. Never the less they were soldiers and they were going to fight. To calm his nerves Matthew shoved his hand into a pocket feeling the small box of ammunition he carried for his Webley. He then checked his watch, "lads should be up soon, did you get any sleep?"

Mason nodded, "Yes, sir."

An hour later the British contingent stormed out of their trenches. Shots were fired from both sides. Mason leveled his rifle and his shot found a German soldier, the man was dead before he hit the ground. Captain Crawley fired as well, six shots in rapid succession from his Webley. Both men dove into ditch to reload.

With both guns reloaded they scrambled up the embankment. Mason fired again and then charged. A shot rang out and he fell screaming.

Matthew fired at the German, his men moving forward. Some Germans were already raising their hands in surrender but some weren't. He felt a hot pinch in his leg and he was falling. Stretching out his left hand he wanted to break his fall but it was not to be. The ground rushed up to meet him and then he knew nothing.

Isobel was giving a lecture on wound care to the families of the soldiers who would be going home. She emphasized cleanliness not only for the wounded but for the those caring. She explained proper washing technique. Sybil acted as her mannequin as she showed how to start a bandage wrap. Isobel's hands had all the muscle memory to do this task.

The class seemed to be a success. Isobel seemed to floating on the knowledge that she could be useful that she was indeed needed. Her lips seemed to be forever in an upturned position of a smile. Richard could see it from across the room. He too carried a small smile. As he listened to a chest a soldier asked, "You seem in good spirits today Doctor."

"Yes lieutenant, the rain has stopped and the sun is out. Perhaps you would like to go outside today?"

Lieutenant Malcolm Robinson considered this, he hadn't been outside since the amputation of his arm. Shrapnel had been imbedded in the tricep and infection had set in. When Robinson had reached Clarkson the doctor had found the lad delirious with fever as infection threatened his life. The amputation had been immediate. Since then Robinson had not been outside, no matter how much coaxing from the nurses he received.

The young soldier regarded Richard and said, "Can I have that chair by the wall?"

"Absolutely" Clarkson replied.

Robinson swung the covers off and stood. Clarkson led him outside, some other patients were already there. Some picked up twigs and branches that had fallen from the tree. The grass was dry as was the wicker furniture. Robinson sat down and sighed.

Everyone seemed to feed off of Robinson's mood. That was until Mr. Moseley appeared at the hospital. Doctor Clarkson saw him, his face ashen and in his hands a telegram. "Nurse Crawley" he barked and Sybil was rushed to him.

"Find Isobel and bring her to my office."

Sybil dashed off to comply. Clarkson motioned for Moseley to give him the telegram but he wouldn't. "What's happened" Isobel asked as she joined them

"Telegram" Moseley stated as he handed the telegram to her. She misjudged the distance and grabbed air. Sybil shot a look to Dr. Clarkson and he just shook his head in that moment Sybil_ knew_.

Isobel seemed to shake, "Richard read it please."

Snatching the telegram away from Moseley he tore it open. His eyes quickly processing the information, "Matthew has been injured he's being brought here."

Isobel had gone still, the only movement was the slight rise and fall of her chest as she breathed and the nystagmus in her eyes. She finally broke the silence, "Thank you Moseley."

The butler left leaving Sybil, Isobel and Clarkson in his office. A gasp was heard and Sybil and Richard turned to Isobel. She was weeping silently, Sybil wanted to go to her to comfort her but she seemed frozen. Richard was not, he moved swiftly and took her in his arms. He dug into a pocket and pressed a handkerchief into one of her hands.

"What's the count now?" he rasped.

"Five" she murmured.

Sybil felt she was intruding on a private moment and she turned to leave. Isobel heard her footsteps and called out, "Sybil I want to go with you tell the others about Matthew, can you arrange for a car please?"

"Of course" She replied.

When the door closed Richard dropped kisses onto her face and spoke in between them. "He's *kiss* not *kiss* dead. Say it Isobel."

"He's not dead" she responded.

Sybil used the newly installed telephone to call Downton Abbey. She didn't remember with whom she spoke or what she said she was still reeling from what she had discovered. Isobel was blind her suspicions had been correct. What she was fighting with was the fact that it changed everything and nothing. Was it betrayal she felt? No that wasn't it, if she herself were in that position she probably wouldn't tell anyone either.

Dr. Clarkson was needed so he left Isobel in his office. He found Sybil and asked if she would sit with Isobel, the young nurse agreed.

The two women alone Sybil found the silence suffocating so she spoke, "Branson is coming to pick us up."

"that's good" Isobel answered.

Sybil blurted out, "Cousin Isobel are you blind?"

Isobel laughed, "I have some vision, I can see light and dark and I know the shapes people make but I can't read or do tasks that take fine detail." She waited a beat, "What gave me away?"

Sybil exhaled, "I noticed you had nystagmus at dinner but you coped so well. It was just now, you reached for the telegram and missed."

Isobel nodded gravely.

Sybil continued, "I won't tell anyone, no one needs to know."

"Thank you, I will tell everyone eventually."

For some reason Sybil wanted to give Isobel a secret of her own, "Cousin Isobel, can you keep my secret?"

Isobel was taken aback but waved in Sybils direction for her to continue. "After the war I will be leaving with Tom Branson. We will go to Ireland, we will marry and I will find work as a nurse."

The horrible news of Matthew was tempered with this new information and Isobel found she could breathe a little easier. Isobel could hear Richard's boot heels nearing the door no doubt Branson was here with the car.


	7. Chapter 7

Isobel was pleasantly surprised when Sybil did not reach for her arm to lead her into Downton. Sybil had been witness to how well the older woman had adjusted to her new condition, she didn't need to be led around like a common beggar. The family quickly assembled and Isobel told them all that she knew, that Matthew had been injured and that he would be coming to Grantham Cottage Hospital. Her keen ears picked up a gasp no doubt from Mary. Questions bombarded her from all sides. She knew Sybil was to her right and she turned to face her, even though her eyes danced with nystagmus Sybil could see she was pleading for help. The nurse in her took charge and she took the telegram from Isobel's hands. "Stop shouting" Sybil ordered and gave the telegram to her father.

No one had noticed the small gathering of servants near the door. Lord Grantham finally saw them no doubt they had all heard. Daisy came forth, "Is there any news about William? He was with Mr. Matthew."

Lord Grantham quickly remembered the footman and was angry that he forgotten him. "I'll find out what I can."

"We better go back to the hospital." Sybil murmured.

"Branson will take you." Lord Grantham decreed.

The telephone became a lifebuoy and Lord Grantham ensnared it. The operator connected him to the War Department. He didn't care how long he had to stay on this damned device he would find out about William and Matthew.

Once Isobel was back at the hospital Dr. Clarkson dismissed Sybil early asking Branson to take her home and apologizing for all the back and forth. The Irishman ducked his head, he got along well with the Scottish doctor. Tom found it ironic that both of them were in love with English women.

The car trip passed in silence until Sybil said, "I never asked her if I should stay with her? Or if she wanted to stay with us at Downton? Can we go back?"

At this Tom slowed the car down to a stop, "I think Mrs. Crawley is in safe hands with the Doctor. He'll look after her and he can telephone as soon as there is news."

"Of course, yes that would make sense." Sybil sighed in relief.

Tom also sighed inwardly that she took his answer without question. He wasn't going to divulge the fact that he saw them kissing the other night.

The nightshift began to trickle in and it was time for Isobel and Richard to leave. Extreme tiredness was beginning to set in no doubt a reaction to all the stresses of the day. Leaning up against a wall of the hospital she closed her eyes.

Lieutenant Robinson noticed that Isobel had cuddled up next to the wall. He had seen this with his fellow soldiers in the trenches-battlefield fatigue. Mrs. Crawley was about have a nice nap against the wall on her feet. He got up from his bed and padded over to her. If he had two arms he would have picked her up instead he just stood next to her. A silent protector until Dr. Clarkson appeared. Her body began sliding so Robinson used the bulk of his own to prop her up.

Dr. Clarkson had just changed the dressing on Captain Boxter's leg, the young Captain had been complaining of itching. Fearing an infection Clarkson had stripped the dressing off to find that wound was healing nicely. His hands snatched up the soiled bandages and disposed of them for incineration. He then washed his hands and came back into the main area where he was once again surprised to see Lieutenant Robinson out of bed. His eyes then focused on what was next to him-Isobel! At first he thought they were having a conversation until he caught the slight panic in Robinson's eyes and he determinedly strode over.

"Doctor, she must be knackered. Fell asleep right here!" Robinson informed him.

Most of the night shift had not arrived yet and the day shift was scurrying around getting things ready for the change over. So instead of nurses moving Isobel a group of healing soldiers got out of their beds. One fetched a stretcher from the corner and they maneuvered it behind her. A gentle push and she fell against it then she was carried into Dr. Clarkson's office. She was then bundled into his small overnight cot.

"Thanks lads." He said softly with genuine affection.

The soldiers all carried small smiles, the men had a soft spot for all the nurses but Isobel especially. For some they viewed her as a surrogate mother and other felt camaraderie since she too had been injured in this war. Richard regarded her and chuckled inwardly, so here she was again in his bed.

Not wanting anyone to worry he used the telephone to inform Downton Abbey on the whereabouts of Isobel that she had fallen asleep at the hospital. He wasn't going to leave her, he sat down at his desk and began reviewing his charts.

He had left the door open to his office so no accusations of impropriety could be leveled at him for having a sleeping woman in his office. He doubted than any of the soldiers would say anything but he wasn't going to take any chances.

The night shift began and Richard found himself being gifted with cups of tea. Richard had an affinity for the night shift. It was during his residency that the night shift would bring the most interesting cases. Most of the babies he had ever delivered had been at night. He took his cup of tea out into the main ward and saw that some patients were asleep. Another group were playing cards in the corner. The card game was actually beneficial, the group playing were having their pain medication tapered off. The cards allowed them a distraction to cope with the pain of healing. However, if any of them had breakthrough pain a syringe of morphine was always waiting.

It was midnight and Richard was feeling tired. The card game was still continuing and one soldier suggested that he take his bed. Richard was against it. "No it's all right, jus have another cup o tea" He said his accent thickening with fatigue.

"Just an hour We'll keep the time."

"An hour, we only play gin for an hour or so don't we." A sandy haired blonde spoke as he rearranged his cards.

"What good are you going to be if you don't sleep?" Another chimed in.

"Fine an hour." He said as he climbed onto the bed not bothering to pull down the covers or remove his white coat.

He promptly fell asleep and slept like the dead. It was for more than an hour but none of the soldiers woke him.


	8. Chapter 8

The discomfort of his bladder woke him and he sat up. The clock in the corner informed him that it was a little after four. He sighed when he realized the men had not woken him up, truth be told he needed the sleep. The card game was still going on to his amazement. He walked up them and it was on the tip of his tongue to lightly scold them for not keeping the time but he thought better of it. They had given him a gift and it would be ungrateful to say anything about it. Besides what could he do to discipline them that hadn't already been done by the war? The sandy haired officer had seen him approach and stop. He glanced at the doctor over his cards and nodded slowly in affirmation to say "I know we said we would keep our word but you needed it."

Richard nodded back then waved his hand in thanks and to say, "I owe you a favor", he then went to tend to his personal needs before returning to his office. Isobel was still asleep so he sat at his desk. He didn't want her to be alone when she woke considering the fact that she had fallen asleep on the wall she would have no idea of where she was.

She would wake an hour later. He heard the pattern of her breathing change and knew she would be waking. Isobel inhaled and she could smell Richard, the smell was all around her. She burrowed into the pillow and stretched her body. She ran a hand palm down on the small mattress but couldn't find his warmth. Her hands then began exploring and she determined she was not in the bed or even the bedroom of the cottage.

She sat up and heard footsteps, "I'm here Isobel."

He took her hand and placed it on his face letting her confirm that he was there.

"I take it I fell asleep?" She asks as her free hand joins the other in touching Richard's face. She traced his forehead before tailing her fingers down his nose and around his cheek to cup it.

One of his hands catches one of hers and kisses her palm before telling her, "Out in the ward actually, the lads put you to bed in here in the office."

Isobels head fell to her chest and he could see the blush rise in her cheeks. Leaning in he rasped, "They were more than happy to help, actually I think they rather enjoyed playing nurse."

They shared a laugh before turning serious. "They'll be here today won't they?" Isobel asked and Richard knew exactly who she was refering.

"Most likely yes." He replied.

She drew in a ragged breath and his arms went around her she clung to him. Needing to feel him against her to know that this wasn't some nightmare. That yes, her son was injured and was now being brought here. Yes, she too had been injured in war. With everything else a bright spot...yes, Richard Clarkson was now her lover.

Since it was early she took the opportunity to return to her home to bathe and change before returning to the hospital. When Sybil arrived she was joined by Mary. Isobel knew of the romance between Mary and Matthew and was pleased that she was here. The sound of engines drew their attention and in a strange sense of Deja Vu Richard went outside in search of a Crawley. William Mason was brought in first then Matthew.

Mary watched the controlled chaos as the men were brought in. Doctor Clarkson hurried from patient to patient issuing orders as he went. Sybil responded to the orders while Mary stood still until told what to do. While Mary had helped with Isobel this seemed more overwhelming to her. Scissors cut through clothing and it was quickly gathered to be burned. Field dressings were also removed so the damage could be seen. Sybil went to the medicine cabinet and fetched the antiseptic. It would be diluted in warm water to wash away, blood, dirt and any other debris. As the layers came away it was became evident that some men had flea bites, as well as extreme cases of trench foot. Mary watched as Dr. Clarkson jammed what looked like a wooden stick in between Matthew's teeth to open his mouth. He called to Isobel, "No trench mouth." A blanket was then drawn over Matthew's body.

"Isobel" Doctor Clarkson commanded and she moved beside him. "I need to see him Richard, which means I need to-"

He cut off her sentence by taking her hand, and placing lightly on his left shoulder, "Dislocated shoulder reduced in the field" then glided her hand down towards Matthew's wrist, "Suspected fracture of wrist." Her hand was then moved to a leg, "Bullet wound right thigh, through-and-through." A stethoscope was then pressed into her hands. She didn't need to be told what to do, she placed the device on her son's chest and listened. Breath sounds were strong and clear, she then moved the bell of the stethoscope to listen to the heart-it was steady and strong. Hearing his heartbeat and actually being able to touch her son finally allowed her to take a decent breath.

With Matthew clean, Dr. Clarkson quickly set his wrist and then Sybil and Isobel dressed him they then called for Mary and she came over.

Mary took in Matthew's appearance, he was bruised and battered yet clean. His chest rose and fell with rhythm of someone in a deep sleep, "When will he wake?"

Doctor Clarkson shrugged, "Hours up to a day, the medics loaded him up with morphine much like they did with your cousin Isobel so they wouldn't be in pain or remember the trip."

At this Mary blanched the memory of her and Sybil washing Isobel and the damage they had seen came rushing back, the thought that she had been taken across France in pain and now Matthew. She flushed hot and then cold and couldn't breathe.

"Mary?" Isobel asked. Dr. Clarkson saw that Mary had lost all her color not wanting another Crawley as a patient he placed her in a chair and pushed her shoulders down. "Put your head between your knees lass."

Isobel took over, rubbing soothing circles on Mary's shoulder as she whispered to her that Matthew was going to be all right. She told her about his injuries of what it all meant. Soon Mary found she could breathe again. Sybil came over with a glass of water and Mary took it willingly taking small sips.

Dr. Clarkson then assessed William Mason. He had taken a bullet to the shoulder what was worrying was a head wound. He wouldn't know what damage it had done until he woke.

Mary had gotten over her panic but Dr. Clarkson wanted her in the chair and not on her feet. She stayed beside Matthew watching for any sign of change of consciousness. Sybil came to Isobel, "I have a patient complaining of shin pain."

Isobel's head cocked to the side, "Has his head been shaved?"

"how did you know?" Sybil asked her surprise obvious.

Isobel rolled her shoulders, "Trench Fever, transmitted by louse. Rampant in the fields, we had to have our hair plaited and shave in France."

Mary who had been listening spoke up, "Trench foot, trench mouth and trench fever...what else is there?"

Isobel turned in Mary's direction, "lots of other nasty things...except for a mild case of trench foot Matthew has none."

Three hours later Matthew began to wake, with him being more alert Dr. Clarkson began a more detailed assessment. The handle of a reflex hammer was dragged along the sole of his feet and his toes curled in reaction to it. He was able to squeeze fingers and answer simple questions. Besides from his obvious injuries he didn't seem to be damaged further. Isobel and Mary took turns sitting with him. He would talk and then doze.

During this time William also began to regain consciousness. When he woke his face was pinched with pain. Clarkson called for morphine, which was quickly brought over. Within minutes William was in more control. He was given the same physical assessment Matthew had. He had feeling in his limbs and could answer questions. However, when a nurse came to take his temperature he startled, "Sorry miss, I didn't see you" he answered. Realization flared in Clarkson and he asked William to look straight ahead while he wiggled his finger. "Tell me when you can see my hand" He started on William's right side and the youngman saw the wiggling finger immediately. The process was repeated on the left side and the it wasn't until wiggling finger passed almost in front of his nose that he saw it.

"Scotoma" Clarkson announced.


	9. Chapter 9

Isobel was in Richards office at any other time she would crave his company but at this particular moment she needed to be alone. Matthew had been returned to her and while he had been shot and injured his shoulder and wrist he would make a full recovery. William Mason had also been shot and with his head wound he had limited the vision in his left eye. She had no clue as to whether this damage was permanent or temporary.

Would he be able to return to his job as a footman? Would he instead go back to his Father's farm? All these questions circulated around her head and the thought of all the soldiers she had treated and their futures. Would they have one?

Deciding she had brooded enough she returned to the ward where she stumbled into an argument.

Mary was adamant about staying with Matthew who was having none of it.

"Neither you or my Mother are going to sit here and watch me sleep." He muttered somewhat clipped.

As she approached them she heard Richard, "Leg bothering you?"

"Shoulder actually" Matthew admitted.

The doctor left before returning with a syringe, "No need for pain here."

While Mary could see the morphine's effect, his face relaxing and his eyelids beginning to close. Isobel could hear his breathing lengthen and deepen. With Matthew asleep Dr. Clarkson ordered Mary to go home with Sybil.

Notes were left for shift change and Isobel knew it was time to go. The cool evening air hit them as they exited the hospital. Instead of turning in the direction of the cottage Isobel moved in the direction of the Grantham Arms Pub.

"What is it?" Richard asked.

She turned to him her face stony, "I want to get drunk! I have my son back but how many don't? Mary has her beau back but again how many have lost theirs? All I can think about is what are they all to do now? How many will be able to fill their former occupations? What about Robinson? Will a woman be able to look past the fact that he only has one arm? What about the next war...there will be one we both know that. There is always another! I feel sick with it all. I don't want to think." She hissed.

He too had had these thoughts but with years of clinical practice he had learned to leave them as best he could in the hospital. Anyone could see she was in a state but getting drunk was not the answer. "Come with me."

Richard's cottage was near and the door was opened he pulled her roughly inside. Isobel found herself with her back up against a wall while Richard was plastered to her front. Somehow it wasn't enough and she pulled him to her. While his body held hers in place against the wall his hands were free to wander. It was strange mixture of soft and hard. While their fingers dug into flesh their kisses were tender.

This was so much better, instead of dulling the senses with liquor she was flooding them with sensation. Her fingernails raked along his scalp and she was rewarded with a moan. Her thoughts strayed to hair and the officer with trench fever.

She then felt a tinge of pain as Richards teeth sank slightly into her neck, "Stop thinking."

She tilted her head up to give him better access. Her hands pushed at his chest and at first Richard thought he had pushed it too far until he felt her hands undoing the buttons of his uniform jacket. Isobel toed off her shoes, Richard had a handful of her skirts hem and pushed it to her waist.

"Bed, bed" she panted.

Richard grinned maniacally, if Isobel were thinking her only thoughts were _more_ and _now_. He was happy to oblige maneuvering them to the bed. His hand fisted some of her hair so he could taste her neck. As he pushed forward he was greeted by heat of her. Years ago he had resigned himself to being a bachelor. he had mentally told himself that the occupation of doctor could grant him complete fulfillment more so than a relationship could. The satisfaction of a job well done couldn't hold a match to this. Having this gorgeous creature beneath him touching him ways that he had never imagined made him curse himself for his foolish thoughts. The softness of her calves ran down his backside and he threw his head back in the sensation of it. The air grew thick as the two of them strived to bring the other the most pleasure they could. Tongues and lips caressed skin. On a whim he circled his hips and a throaty moan was his reward. He had read about this, a dutch physician Reinier de Graaf if he remembered correctly. He did the move again and again until Isobel stiffened. It was too perfect and he was lost.

As they came back to themselves he wondered what other obscure medical texts he had hiding in the cottage?

Isobel's hands found his mouth and kissed him gently. He had granted her wish of stopping her thoughts. She loved him, more so now than before. Gathering her courage she opened her mouth, "Richard, I'm in love with you."

He emitted a barking sob before kissing her lips with bruising force. Love was something he had felt for her for some time. He hid it behind rolling eyes and sighs. He didn't know where he stood with her and love terrified him. When she left for France he came to the realization that he was more terrified of losing her. Seeing her on the stretcher bloodied and bruised he knew he couldn't live without her. The admission that she loved him back, knowing that what they shared would continue to flourish made him deliriously happy. He kissed her neck before saying the three words he had only told one other woman-his mother, "I love you."


	10. Chapter 10

Isobel slept and while Richard would doze he would find himself wakening and smiling in the fact that he had Isobel and that she loved him back. This war had taken so much from all of them yet in its destruction it had created this. He thought back to the storm that had blown through Grantham, the one that had raged the first night they had made love. As he closed his eyes to return to sleep he wished that others could find some sliver of happiness as well.

In the morning they arrived, Isobel went to Lieutenant Robinson and thanked him for what he had done for her in the ward. She couldn't see it but the youngman blushed before stammering that it was no problem. As Isobel checked asked questions about pain level and was assisted by another nurse in respiration rates and pulses they discussed activities. Dr. Clarkson and Isobel then went to Matthew and William. Dr. Clarkson had Matthew push his leg against his hands in some exercises to maintain the muscle strength. He would have given him a cane but since the opposite side of his upper body was injured he couldn't use a cane or crutches. William watched in sort of fascinated horror as the doctor manipulated the leg. Matthew grunted and groaned through the movements and William had a feeling that he would be next. The bullet had torn through the muscle of his shoulder and he too would need to begin a form of physical therapy to make sure the muscle groups didn't tighten limiting movement. Isobel rolled up a towel and had him grasp it both hands behind his back and pull it up and down in a pulley motion. She used her own hands to make his arms stayed in the correct position. They did ten repetitions before they stopped and she called for morphine. She sat next to Matthew while Dr. Clarkson gave William the morphine.

Isobel and Richard then left to attend other patients while William and Matthew commiserated on their respective treatments.

When Sybil arrived it was with Mary and Daisy. The two men were delighted to see them. During his deployment Daisy had dutifully written. She had learned for herself that Thomas was not worth her time. While he had seductive quality it was tempered with a vile nasty streak. William had always fancied her and he was a good man. Through letters they had learned about one another. William spoke of his Mother of how she taught him piano. Daisy spoke of her early life, the death of her family and how she took up cookery. What started out as a farce of a relationship had actually morphed into one.

Richard watched as the two women sat next to their respective men and smiled inwardly knowing that Isobel was with him. Within a week they were well enough to be discharged. Both would be staying at the Abbey. A room had been prepared downstairs for Matthew so he wouldn't have to negotiate any of the stairs at Crawley House. Since the discharge Isobel had been staying at Crawley House and she hated it. She missed the intimacy of Richard's cottage, she missed Richard.

Today was the luncheon and she was going to spend the night with Richard regardless of what anyone thought or said. She was a grown woman for God's sake.

The luncheon seemed to going well, until the subject of conversation crossed into the area of vocation. William stayed silent, he didn't want to be seen begging for his old position when he might not be able to perform. Trying to diffuse a tense situation Dr. Clarkson innocently asked, "Would you consider staying on at the hospital after the war Lady Sybil?"

Sybil opened her mouth but Lord Grantham was swifter, "I don't think there would be time for that. Besides after the war that amount of staff wouldn't be needed."

Isobel was beginning to sweat, Richard nor Robert knew of Sybil's plans to leave England with Tom Branson. Her hands twisted her cloth napkin.

Lord Grantham directed his gaze to William, "Will you be coming back to Downton after the war?"

William shot a glance at Dr. Clarkson, "I don't know sir."

Lord Grantham ploughed on, "You're a strapping young lad I'm sure that shoulder will heal."

William licked his lips, "The muscles are mending, it's the sco...Doctor what is it called again?"

"Scotoma." Dr. Clarkson provided softly.

"What is that?" Grantham asked his lips curling up in disgust at the word.

"Scotoma is a blind spot, all of us have one. Mr. Mason sustained a head wound during battle which has caused the scotoma in his left eye to grow. He does have vision in the left eye but the scope is limited."

"We'll send you London, you can see the Specialist Mrs. Patmore saw." Lord Grantham said authoritatively

"With all due respect, Mrs. Patmore had cataracts. This type of injury has to due more with the brain than with the eye."

"Nothing can be done?" Lady Cora asks

'I'm sorry no." Dr. Clarkson added.

Lord Grantham was having none of it and began talking about specialists. Isobel had had enough, "I think we should defer to Doctor Clarkson's experience in this matter."

Matthew jumped in on the side of Robert, "Yes, but Mother a specialist might help."

Isobel shot her son a look that could peel paint, "No! All Mr. Mason needs is time to adjust to his new condition and he is doing so well."

"I didn't know you had experience in this area" Cora said offhand in a tone reminiscent of their power struggle.

It was time to stop hiding. Isobel unwound her hands from the napkin, "I'm blind myself."

A chorus of "What?" assaulted her ears. Luncheon was quickly dismissed. William scurried to the servants hall glad to be out of the chaos that was beginning to erupt around him.

"What do you mean you're blind?" Matthew demanded almost hysterically as he sat next to her.

"I was injured in France you all know that. They needed me at another hospital. Our vehicle...I'm still not sure what happened. I was thrown from it, I broke my left arm and must have banged my head." She turned towards Matthew and ran her palm down along the seat until she found his hand, "Because of that I can't see."

"Mother?" Matthew asked his fingers gripping hers tightly.

"I didn't put it in my letters since I didn't know how to tell you." Isobel stated flatly

"That's why Mary wrote to me" his mind put together quickly.

"Yes" she acknowledged.

Lord Grantham's voice cut in, "You can't see anything?"

"I can see light and dark and the shapes of people. I won't be able to read a book, or knit but as you can see I am capable of other things."

"Her classes at the hospital have gone over very well." Sybil added.

Robert shot a look to his daughter, "You knew and didn't tell us?"

"Why tell Sybil and not me?" Matthew demanded.

"I didn't tell Sybil she figured it out on her own. If I hadn't had made it known would you have said anything. This changes nothing." Isobel delivered.

Voices overlapped one another, and Isobel caught snippets, "Where will you stay? Who will care for you." All asked in various ways by various voices.

Doctor Clarkson heard it all, he was standing behind the sofa Isobel and Matthew were sitting on. He walked forward to take Isobel's hand before adding his voice to the cacophony, "I will" he said.

No one paid him any attention so he said it louder until all eyes were on him.

"I'm sorry Dr. Clarkson, what did you say?" Lord Grantham asked.

"You want to know where she will stay and who will look after her the answer is: with me and I will."


	11. Chapter 11

What should have stopped the room seemed to ignite a hidden fuse. Matthew and Mary began an argument over Isobel while Sybil was began tearing into her father over her job. Deciding it was an ugly display for anyone Richard leaned down and whispered, "Lets go."

If anyone saw them leave they didn't say. Carson was flustered, he could hear the commotion and he was sure a few maids were in the wings listening as well. As he saw Richard and Isobel near him he stammered, "I'm sure M'Lord will send a car."

Richard just waved him off, he was so very tired. He was glad that Isobel had told her family but this fallout was not what he had wanted. It was doubtful it was what Isobel had wanted but she probably knew this would be the result and kept it quiet as long as she did. As they walked through the grand door of Downton Thomas Branson came scurrying up.

"Are you two all right? I can drive you back and no one need know." He spat.

Isobels hand splayed as she reached out for the younger man. "No, we'll walk but can you do something for me?"

"Anything" He said with sincerity.

"If they ask, tell them we've gone to the Pub." She said with mirth.

"Which one? Dog and Duck or Grantham Arms?" Tom asked rapidly.

Her wicked smile let him know it was to be neither. "Oh, I see."

"Thank you." Doctor Clarkson said as he extended his hand for Branson to shake.

As Tom watched the older couple walk down the lane and out of his sight he thought _How fine they look_.

Isobel was trying not to mull over the scene that had just played out at the Abbey. Her Mother had warned her about her pride, it wasn't her own pride but her pride in others that would land her into trouble. She didn't want William to be picked apart or treated as a science experiment. Her mind then replayed the fact that Richard had told them all that she would stay with him. While it probably hadn't sunk in with them yet it resonated with her. Tonight she would stay with him as she had wanted.

Richard thought it was time all cards were laid on the table, "Isobel, I know now probably isn't the best time. Nonetheless, will you be my wife?"

Her lips curled up in a smirk, "I already share your bed."

"Yes but now you'll share my kitchen." He said striving for a light tone while inside his stomach had turned to water.

"Yes, I would be honored to be your wife and I'm no good in the kitchen."

He took her hand in his for his own confirmation that she wouldn't disappear. He wanted nothing more than to cloister her away in his cottage and keep her there. Safe and warm within its walls, away from prying eyes and the well-meaning yet meddling family. While it was just after noon they stripped each other down and climbed into bed. Her head was cushioned on his chest and she listened to his heart. His hands glided down her back and arms. They simply held one another basking in the feeling of skin against skin. They must of fallen asleep for a banging woke Richard. He slithered out of bed and tucked the edge of the down comforter around Isobel to secure in the heat and hopefully keep her asleep. He grabbed a pair of trousers and shrugged on a shirt and buttoned a few buttons to give the illusion that he was dressed. He padded barefoot towards the door.

Opening it revealed Matthew Crawley on his doorstep. He motioned for Matthew to come through but kept him near the door. Matthew seemed flustered, "Mary is at the Dog and Duck and I just came from the Grantham Arms."

Richard chuckled at the image that came to his mind of the Crawley's rushing around the village no doubt looking for Isobel. He looked at Matthew and saw the panic and concern on his face and decided to put him out of his misery.

"Richard?" Isobel's voice drifted from the bedroom.

Matthew's eyes widened as he stared at Clarkson, the older man simply stared back, "I'm just getting a drink Isobel, go back to sleep."

Matthew then took in the Doctor's appearance consisting of mussed hair, rumpled trousers, miss-buttoned shirt and bare-feet. Also the fact that his Mother's voice had no doubt come from the bedroom Matthew blushed and ducked his head. He stammered, "Well I'll have them call off the search."

Matthew moved towards the door wanting to leave. Richard felt a swell of pity, Matthew cared deeply for his Mother and only wanted to see her protected. It shone through in this frantic search for her. However, Richard couldn't forget the scene at the Abbey where everyone was questioning her abilities and speaking about her even though she was right next to them. As Matthew crossed over the threshold Richard spoke, "You should know I've asked your Mother to marry me and she has accepted."

Matthew snorted, "On your own head be it."

Richard chuckled at his own words he had spoken so long ago being echoed back at him. Matthew extended his hand for Richard to take and shook it as Richard went to withdraw his hand Matthew gripped it, "I know you will but be good to her."

"Of course." Richard promised before shutting the door. As he walked back to the bedroom he snatched up a tumbler and just placed in on the dresser. Shedding his clothes quickly he rejoined Isobel back in bed. Her warm body welcomed him and spooned in behind her letting her calm breaths lull him back to sleep.


	12. Chapter 12

The family bickering over the wild goose chase Isobel had lead them on came to a halt with the announcement of an impending armistice. On the eleventh day of the the eleventh month at eleven o'clock the war would end. Everyone would gather at Downton Abbey to mark the event. Hopefully it would be the last time Major Clarkson would be called for. He prepared his uniform, as he and Isobel entered the great Hall of the Abbey Richard was surprised when she joined him on the Military side instead of the family/civilian side. He remembered that her Red Cross uniform and been cut away when she had arrived at the hospital.

Lord Grantham made a speech before the clock struck eleven and the household was quiet. As the bell chimed Isobel shivered. Richard covertly took her hand in his, as the final chimes rang through the hall a somber curtain seemed to have fallen. The end of War signalled a change for many. Mary and Matthew could make the announcement of their wish to marry. Sybil could leave with Tom Branson.

While everyone had hope that the war would end but now that it had actually come to pass there was hint of apprehension. It would pass once the wartime way of life subsided. Before the announcement of the armistice Isobel and Richard had quietly applied for a licence and Isobel had chosen the 30th of November. Richard had smirked at the date: St. Andrew's Day. Isobel had asked him what he wanted, if he preferred a church wedding or a simple civil ceremony. Richard was not one for pomp. However, he knew that he was marrying the mother of the future heir of Grantham. They decided on a civil ceremony at the Registrar in Ripon to be followed by a reception at Crawley House.

In the meantime there was a bustle of activity the army would be collecting materials from the hospital and plans were still being made for soldiers. William Mason was able to help, his father was having trouble managing his farm. Soldiers like Lieutenant Robinson would have trouble entering the workforce. Mason farm was a perfect go between. Mr. Mason would have a small labor force and the soldiers would have lodging and a purpose.

Matthew had trouble adjusting, he had gone from Lawyer to Soldier and now was in the process of becoming a Gentleman. He was so used to being busy that the idleness had him almost craving the battlefield. Bates saw it and told Lord Grantham that the youngman needed something to do.

In return Lord Grantham gave Matthew his books to review, with his background in the law perhaps he could analyze where the Grantham estate was going.

While Matthew pored over books Mary began wedding plans. The Saturday before Isobel and Richard were to be wed Mary and Matthew strolled through a local market. Merchants were once again holding markets in attempt to draw the population back into some semblance of a post-war life.

At a particular stall Matthew couldn't pass up an item.

Isobel stayed at Crawley House on the 29th while Richard stayed at his cottage. In the morning Branson would pick them up to drive them to Ripon. Isobel thought it was strange that to take part in the superstition but the Crawley girls had insisted.

On the morning of the thirtieth was cold and Isobel found she liked it. As she stepped out of Crawley house she could hear an engine idling. Tom Branson held her hand to help her into the car. As she sat down on the bench seat she felt warmth and knew it was from Richard. The trip to Ripon was quick and soon they were ensconced in the registrar office. Richard guided her hand to the ledger so she could sign it. His own hand covered the lower portion so her ink would not stray. The forms were signed and the ceremony began. Both of them didn't remember much of it. Isobel's focus was on Richards hand as it held hers and Richard could only see Isobel's brown eyes, he didn't care that they danced with nystagmus.

Richard kissed his bride and with it transformed her into his wife. As a child he loved St. Andrews day, the week long ceremonies leading up to a huge festival. When he moved down south the missed the festivities. He felt a swell of love that Isobel had chosen this day for their marriage to begin.

As they exited the office Richard pealed with laughter.

"What is it?" Isobel asked desperate to know what had made her husband laugh so richly.

"Our Mr. Branson has decorated the car with the Saltire." Richard said wiping his eyes from all the merriment.

On the trip back to Crawley house some of the villagers waved at the car and Branson gave a friendly honk in recognition.

Richard enjoyed the reception, he was glad that was close friends instead of loads of people he had no clue about. He knew that with Isobel as his wife he would no doubt spend more time around the upper crust he hoped that he wouldn't embarrass her.

Isobel was talking with Matthew and Mary when he placed something in her hands. Her nimble fingers identified it as a box as she opened the lid and removed the tissue paper her fingers identified a book. She made a small noise before Richard came up beside her, "The complete anthology of Greek Myths."

Isobel then turned towards Richard who merely leaned down to whisper loudly enough for Matthew and Mary to hear as well, "Who do you think will read them to you?"

Matthew smiled when he had seen the book it had reminded him of one of his first conversations with Mary. His mother had also been present at the fateful dinner and would understand the joke. Matthew knew that Dr. Clarkson cared deeply for Isobel, that they had mutual respect for one another. Seeing him whisper hotly in her ear about the book let him know that he loved her passionately. From that moment on he knew he wouldn't have to worry about his Mother.


	13. Chapter 13

That night after they had made love as husband and wife Isobel listened as Richard chose and read the story of Pygmalion. She heard as well as felt the story as she could feel the vibrations in his chest under her cheek. She wondered had Richard had thought of her as Galatea? Was she the Marble statue seemingly unobtainable only to be made flesh? Or was she thinking too much and did he just choose the story since it was the first one.

The book which had been given in jest was actually turning out to be one of their most treasured gifts. Reading in bed was something Richard did often, mostly trying to keep abreast of new diseases and techniques in medicine. He would gladly admit that laying nude in bed with an equally nude wife bundled under a down comforter reading Greek myths was much better than the British Medical Journal.

Plans for a honeymoon had been cut short due to the presence of Spanish flu. The hospital was quickly becoming overwhelmed. Isobel was used to Doctor's hours having been married to one before. The long hours and sudden call outs were oddly family. She helped where she could, for the nursing staff at the hospital had been reduced after the war. However, without Sybil or another trusted aide Isobel knew that she couldn't help as much as she wanted to.

One night Richard sent her to the Abbey, he didn't want her waiting at the cottage for him to come back. Branson had picked her up and she noted that he was unusually quiet around her. This feeling of unease intensified when she arrived at the Abbey the tension was almost palpable. As she was led into the library, before dinner, she could hear whispers and the melodic *clink* as someone knocked a decanter against a glass. Deciding to use her impairment to her advantage she asked, "Can someone tell me where to sit?"

Mary gathered her wits first, "Yes, I'm so sorry Cousin Isobel. The small sofa about seven paces to your left."

She counted the number of steps before making contact with piece of furniture. Matthew came over and kissed her cheek.

"Is everything well?" She asked wanted to rid herself of this foreboding.

She was told yes, that everyone seemed to be adjusting to the new post-war era. However, there was still a nagging feeling, almost the way she felt before a storm. Subconsciously she rubbed her arm.

The gong rang out and slowly everyone made their way to the dining room. Matthew walked beside his mother letting his shoulder and arm guide her. Isobel could feel that his limp was gone, the muscles in his leg had had fully healed. Things had changed somewhat after Isobel had finally told the family that she was blind. After their initial feelings of betrayal they tried to overcompensate. They had Carson rearrange her dinner setting which led to confusion. Some of the utensils had been removed when her hands encountered less than the usual count. She either had to physically touch the entire length of the utensil or hiss to Richard. She had also inadvertently knocked over a glass of wine. This spill of wine led to her spilling tears in private. The fact that this rattled her so much had Richard's blood boiling. He had gone to them and politely asked them to stop. Their well meaning gestures were actual hindrances.

The servants seemed to be more aware on how to help. On her usual trip to the village Mrs. Hughes came across Mrs. Clarkson. As Isobel was trying to purchase a loaf of bread the merchant was trying to convince her that she had given him the wrong amount of money. The housekeeper verbally tore strips off of the merchant. From then on Mrs. Hughes would coordinate her trips to market with Mrs. Clarkson.

As Isobel sat down at the table she ran her hands along the tablecloth until her fingertips bumped into the utensils. Everyone was used to this motion now and some had even used it themselves to not embarrass themselves when they had overindulged in wine. She still served herself with one hand and again no one paid any attention.

As they ate she was asked about Richard. She smiled before letting them know of his apologies for not attending dinner and of the new cases of Spanish flu cropping up in the village. After dinner as they were led into the drawing room Tom Branson appeared. Isobel didn't know of his presence until he said, "I'm here as you asked." She wondered if she was being dismissed and then in a stomach freezing instant Isobel knew what was coming.

"He said what?!" Richard bellowed as he stood next to his wash basin in only his trousers the next morning as he shaved.

"You heard me" Isobel bellowed back as she retold the events of dinner especially the words of Lord Grantham. "After that tirade I was more than happy to leave!" She shouted as her hands fixed the strap of her nightgown.

"Seducing?" Richard murmured his accent thick.

"Oh yes! I'm surprised the side of my head didn't begin to smoke from all the stares of everyone in the room. Even Though I'm blind I could feel the looks." Isobel said with a shudder as she remembered the evening.

"What do you think will happen?" He asked as he turned back to the mirror to continue shaving.

Isobel moved close enough so she could hear the bristles of his shave brush as it moved against his skin. "Sybil is determined and Tom loves her. I do know this if Lord Grantham carries on the way he did at dinner last night he will lose so much." At her words he stopped the circular motion of the brush and turned to see her. "Children are not possessions" she spat.

The talked more about the situation, Richard told her of his unease when he mentioned Sybil's possible future at Grantham Hospital. Isobel shared his concerns. He could see that she was deeply upset by this and went to change topics. "Did I get it all?" He asked softly.

She made her way to him and ran her hands up his bare arms, along his shoulders to his face. She leaned in close and inhaled, her favorite scent this him after this morning ritual. Her fingertips ghosted over the freshly shaved skin. Humming in contentment she traced his nose and chin. The touches that she bestowed upon him were gifts that he cherished. As a doctor he generally had carte blanche to touch people but always in a cold clinical fashion. He could freely touch Isobel and she reciprocated with enthusiasm and love. The light glinted off of her wedding band and his hand ensnared hers.

"I love you." Richard said in hushed tones as his forehead rested against hers.

She nuzzled against him deliberately pressing her body against his the thinness of her nightgown allowing him to feel her.

"I love you too" She whispered back. He pushed against her and kissed her. When she kissed him back his hands moved to push down the straps of the nightgown. He would be late to the hospital. However, there were benefits to being the chief medical officer.


	14. Chapter 14

At Downton Abbey sweet nothings were not being whispered. As his daughter argued with him Lord Grantham regarded her. She was the best mix of himself and Cora: Stubborn, intelligent and beautiful. He only hoped Tom Branson knew what he was doing.

At the hospital Dr. Clarkson arrived late but no one seemed to notice. The Spanish Flu was taking it's toll on the village. Halfway through the week he was called to Downton Abbey. Lady Cora had been diagnosed along with a quarter of the servants.

At one of his checks Lord Grantham met him out in the hallway, "Would it be wise to hire a nurse?"

Richard couldn't believe what he was hearing and he stated clearly, "You already have one, Lady Sybil."

The dismissive look on Grantham's face had Richard wanting to give Sybil a ferry ticket to Ireland this very minute. Normally he wouldn't dream of giving a Lord a piece of his mind but the long days and this arrogance had stretched his limits. "With all due respect, this house isn't the only one to be stricken with this disease. If you want her looked after by nurses you can bring her to the hospital but it is nearly standing room only and we are stretched thin. Or by all means hire some nurses but I am hard pressed to tell you they are in short to supply due to this epidemic."

At his words Grantham backed down, "Yes, you're right Sybil would look after Cora most suitably."

When he came home that night he found Isobel waiting for him. Her legs were curled underneath her as she sat in his armchair, in her hand was a tumbler of whisky. The casual nature of how she was sitting coupled with the not-so feminine glass ignited his inner cave man. He dropped his bag by the door before taking three strides to where she was sitting. He took her glass from her before pulling her up and kissing her.

He felt her hands tangle in his hair. His hands wandered over her shoulders and back pulling her to him. He felt her moan appreciatively. Wanting more his hands roamed lower before cupping her backside and pulling her hips against his. Her mouth opened to elicit a gasp and he took the opportunity to plunder her mouth with his tongue.

Isobel thought with the small portion of her mind that was still working. While sometimes their lovemaking had a certain sense of urgency it had never delved into this raw possessiveness. At this moment Richard wanted her and she _wanted_ to be wanted.

He moved away from her just long enough to drag his knuckles down her breasts. She mewled at his touches. He was surprising her, she had brief flash of vertigo as she was pulled to the floor. This was something new, all of her encounters had been in a bed. She had never been taken on a rug in the middle of a sitting room. Together they kicked off clothes and shoes, a soft ticking let her know that his vest was most likely thrown near where her head lay. She expecting him to cover her but he didn't. He kissed her top lip and whispered, "maxilla" then her bottom lip, "Mandible". "Sternum" followed by a quick kiss below her breasts, "Xiphoid process"

Isobel was beginning to tremble. Another kiss, "Solar plexus" his head was moving downwards and Isobel's trembling was starting to increase. He nuzzled a protrusion of her hip before once again placing his lips on it, "Iliac crest."

She had time to inhale sharply before his lips touched her again this time lower and he didn't verbally supply the location. He didn't need to for her mind sang it's name. Lips and tongue touched her causing her to buck. Warm hands held her hips in place as he continued his exploration. The sounds they were making were obscene and perfect. Richard could feel the muscles in her thighs tense and he redoubled his efforts. He was rewarded with a throaty cry. Isobel could only hear the rushing of her blood and Richard had moved away a bit from her. She reached out for him, needed to touch him, needing to _see_ him.

He was with her in an instant threading his fingers through hers. With their hands bound she pulled him to her. His chest collided with hers and she moaned happily. Reaching above her he grabbed his shirt and stuffed in under her head to form a makeshift pillow. He could feel the heat radiating from her center and took a deep breath before joining with her. The hardness of floor let him feel all of her. A part of him was worried that he might be crushing her but the fact she was nibbling on his neck let him know that she was fine. His elbows and knees were being burned by the rug but he didn't care. He knew his back would complain come the morning but he simply _did not care_. All that mattered was the woman beneath him-his woman. A tingling at the base of his spine let him know that cliff was approaching and he flung himself off of it willingly.

Later on when they had moved to the bed he had told her of Lord Grantham, of the ugliness and dismissive attitude he had been witness to. He was thankful he had not been at that nightmare of a dinner that Isobel had endured.

Early in the morning he was woken by knocking at his door, it was a car from Downton Abbey. He hastily dressed, when he arrived at the Abbey all the lights seemed to be on and the windows shone eerily. Mrs. Hughes led him to Lady Cora's room, when he entered the stench of sweat and vomit assaulted him. Sybil quickly covered a basin with a cloth and directed someone to remove it. Not bothering to pack his stethoscope in his back he had simply slung it around his neck. A quick listen to the lungs and he called for his bag. Sybil was efficient in finding exactly what he wanted before asking for it. His practiced hands quickly drew up epinephrine and injected it.

Lord Grantham watched in all in a fascinated awe. His wife looking more like a creature from a horror novel and his daughter effortlessly handling it all. Dr. Clarkson held charisma, everyone seemed to relax a notch when he entered the room. As Cora was injected Lord Grantham did something he rarely admitted to-he prayed.

In the same hallway where they had exchanged terse words only a few days ago Dr. Clarkson had some sobering news, "I've given her epinephrine it should help her breathing. You must understand the only cure for this is time. If she lasts until sunset tonight she will live. You must prepare yourself."

Robert returned to his wife's bedroom and watched as Sybil tenderly cared for her. In that moment he knew whether or not Cora lived Sybil would leave. She would either leave happy with his blessing or not. He was going to give her his blessing and he prayed that Cora would live to see it.


	15. Chapter 15

The Spanish Flu did not claim Cora's life although it came close. It did however, claim Mr. Mason. The whole of the Abbey joined William in burying his father. The blonde did not hide his tears and many found that more admirable that he was openly showing his grief as well as his love. Robert watched as the casket was lowered and thought for a moment if it were Cora instead. He shivered and moved closer to his wife.

Sybil would be leaving today with Tom Branson, their ferry would be leaving at four o'clock. Though it pained him he bid his daughter farewell. He had slipped an envelope into her suitcase, a small sum to help them in their new life. As the two young lovers left the cemetery they were approached by a couple-The Clarkson's.

"Here they are Isobel" Richard told her.

Isobel dug into her purse, "Richard you know I can't find it can you?"

Tom laughed inwardly of the sight Dr. Clarkson digging through a ladies handbag but managed to keep a straight face. Sybil was then presented with two envelopes, "They're references from us to help you with your nursing career."

Of all the things people had given her these past few days this was something she had truly wished for. She gazed at the stationary one was military and the other had the emblem of the Grantham cottage hospital. This would help her start her new life in Ireland.

"thank you" She stated with sincerity.

"the least we could do" Richard said with kindness.

The four parted company and Richard and Isobel walked from the churchyard towards the village square. Having just come from a funeral had Isobel reflecting on her life. She wondered what would her life had been like if she had met Richard earlier? Would they have gotten on? Would they have married? A small voice asked about children.

"penny for them?" He asked softly.

She tightened the hold on his arm as they stepped on a rough patch of road, "Oh just the thoughts one has when attending events like these: Weddings, christenings, funerals. I think about life and I think of my life now and what it could have been. Not to say regrets but just a different life."

"You mean like if we had met earlier in life?"

Her cheeks burned as he said exactly what she had been thinking. "Perhaps" she muttered.

"Do you know why I became a doctor?" She shook her head so he continued, "I contracted mumps at 14, never been so miserable, because of that I wanted to go into medicine. If I hadn't I probably would have gone into the woodworking trade like my father."

"So I have mumps to thank?" She said with a nervous laugh.

He slowed his pace before stopping completely, "Isobel, know this. We met at the right time. Even if we had met when we were young and had married I couldn't have given you a family. You had the life you were supposed to have to meet me now and I had the life I had so I could meet you."

Isobel's eyes filled with tears, she would be lying if she had said she hadn't had thought of what it would have been like to have been Mrs. Clarkson sooner. However, the same set of circumstances that led him to medicine had made him unable to father children. Would she have been able to overlook this fact when she was young? Having a family was and still is very important part of her life. Would she have married Richard and then resented him for not providing her with children. She thought of Reginald and how they had only Matthew. Being a doctor's wife left little time for intimacy. A nudging at her hand had her emitting a laugh, she knew it was his handkerchief and she had lost count of what number this one was.

Matthew and Mary's wedding came and went, Richard had taken her to the church the night before the ceremony to describe the decorations and have her touch them without a gawking audience. It would be the first time that Richard would occupy one of the front pews. Isobel felt it strange that they would honeymoon in France especially after the war. Perhaps it was a way to erase bad memories of a place with good ones.

The hospital was undergoing changes, renovations to some areas to modernize were welcome. The staff changes were not so welcomed. Some nurses had retired or moved onto different hospitals after the war. Instead of nurses with years of experience Grantham Cottage Hospital got some fresh graduates.

Dr. Clarkson left the duties to Nora Chapman the charge nurse one morning he heard her grumble over tea. There was a growing problem with one of the new nurses, a young lass named Beth. Richard had hoped the young nurse would learn to fit in yet she seemed poorly fitted to the task. Nora was quickly losing patience and Richard's schedule and position did not grant him the flexibility to guide her. However, this would be perfect for Isobel. That night as they lay together he asked for her help in the matter.

In the morning, Isobel shadowed Beth on rounds. While her sight was limited she could tell that Beth was missing basic procedures. She began prompting her to check certain things. It became clear to Isobel that while Beth excelled at nursing in theory she did not excel in practice. She had been out of nursing school for nearly six months, this did not bode well for Beth. Still Isobel held out some hope.

Later on in the week the medicine cabinet needed to be restocked. Isobel had that cabinet memorized and was finding it difficult that Beth was slow to follow her instructions. The chloroform needed to be kept out of direct sunlight, that was why it was also kept in a dark colored glass bottle. Isobel could tell by touch that she had but the Iodine in the colorforms place. She instructed Beth to switch the bottles. Whether it was clumsiness or vindictiveness the bottle of chloroform came tumbling down and shattered on the edge of the middle shelf. The liquid splashed over Isobels hair and apron quickly soaking through to her dress beneath. A good deal had also touched her hands

The crash had alerted Dr. Clarkson who came running in. Isobel's chin was pointing up at the ceiling trying to the the drops of chloroform to roll down her back and not into her eyes. and she was taking shallow frustrated breaths, "Chloroform" she rasped. In an instant Richard was beside her extracting a pair of bandage scissors from a pocket of his white coat. "Nora" he barked and the charge nurse appeared. "Make sure she isn't contaminated." He indicated to Beth.

Nora went over to Beth who had somehow not been covered with chloroform. Richard was busy cutting away the apron letting it pool on the floor. He muttered a curse as the scissors began cutting through the fabric of Isobel's dress. Soon Isobel was dressed only in her slip. In the garden there was a cistern shower and Isobel needed the chloroform to be removed from her skin. Already her hand and part of her wrist were becoming irritated.

She was led outside and directed to stand underneath the head. Richard pulled the lever and the water came through. The water was cold and soon Isobel was shivering as the water cascaded down her form. Dr. Clarkson gave orders to Nora who quickly went to comply.

What seemed like an eternity later Isobel was allowed out of the water. Richard rushed to her with a towel he first stripped off her slip and wrapped the large bath sheet around her. He picked her up and carried her inside.

Isobel's lips were tinged blue, and she was shivering. He carried her into his office where the mattress from his cot and another mattress from the ward had been pushed together to form a bed on the floor. A pile of blankets was nearby. Richard deposited Isobel on it before tearing at his own clothing. When he was stripped down he gathered Isobel to him and covered them up with blankets. While it was the oldest technique it was still the best for warming someone with hypothermia. Nora came in and took Isobel's pulse and reported it to Richard who nodded in affirmation.

As Nora got up to leave he spoke, "If you would be so kind would you dismiss Beth please?"

Nora smiled, "With pleasure."


	16. Chapter 16

Lord Grantham was out for a walk, surveying the domain his father had called it. Robert truly enjoyed where he lived and those that lived in the village held him in high esteem. The Abbey was nearly empty. Sybil was in Ireland, Mary in France, Edith off with his mother and Cora.

The cottage hospital loomed and he noticed with curiosity that all the windows seemed to be open. As he passed the hospital the curiosity faded. What the Earl of Grantham didn't know was that inside Nora had placed Isobel's ruined clothes in dispoal bin. The charge nurse had also been the one to open up the hospital. The pungent smell of chloroform lingered and needed to leave lest more people were to inhale and drop.

Isobel's shaking was beginning to subside. She lying on her side with Richard plastered to her back with his arms crossed over her front. His arms provided warmth and held her for she feared she would break apart with the shivering. Her sides hurt as she shivered, her feet felt like chunks of wood and her head ached.

Richard talked to her the entire time. He had asked Nora for a towel and he would run it across her hair in an attempt to dry it. Checking her wrists showed the irritation had faded. He was talking a bit out of fear, he couldn't believe what had happened. No good deed goes unpunished His mother's words echoed in his head. He had truly hoped that Beth would grow but he had caught the tone of Isobel's words with her this morning and he could hear her frustration. In all the years he had known her her had only seen her frustrated once and that had been with Cora. Beth was not going to flourish in Grantham.

"Such a chatterbox" Her whisper had him relaxing a touch and he stopped talking. Her shivering gave way to tiredness and she fell asleep.

When Richard was sure of her being able to regulate her own body temperature he slithered out and dressed. He would need to go to the cottage to collect some new clothes for Isobel. He knew she kept a small travel bag for emergencies and this qualified as one. As he exited the hospital he caught Lord Grantham no doubt on his way towards the Abbey.

"Afternoon Doctor" Robert called cheerily.

"Afternoon" Richard echoed.

Robert noticed that the good doctor was headed in the direction of his cottage, "Going home in the middle of the day?"

Richard chuckled, "I'm not skiving off like an errant school boy. Must fetch some clothes."

Robert regarded him, "Is there something wrong with the ones you have?"

Richard sighed and waved at the hospital, "Not for me for Isobel, accident this morning."

Instantly the joviality was gone, "Accident?"

Richard sighed and ran a hand through his hair only remembering that he had forgotten his hat, "One of the nurses fumbled a bottle of chloroform. As it smashed it covered Isobel, had to cut her out of her clothes and get her to the cistern to wash off the substance. She's recovering now."

Robert was shocked, "Good God, is there anything I can do?"

RIchard pondered this, he didn't want to leave the hospital in case Isobel woke and while Nora may not mind fetching clothes it wasn't in her duties as a nurse. Lord Grantham was family and Richard could trust him to be discreet. He handed him the key to the cottage, "Bottom of the wardrobe there is brown bag that should be sufficient."

Grantham gave Clarkson a mock salute and proceeded to the cottage whilst Clarkson scurried back to the hospital. Truth be told Robert was glad of the diversion, these past month had been very trying for him. The War, Spanish Flu, Sybil leaving for Ireland and Mary's wedding. He felt as though he had been pushed aside in these things. He was a fake soldier, a figurehead for the village while Matthew and Dr. Clarkson held a real rank. He was powerless when Cora was stricken. He had argued and lost with Sybil and the only thing he could do with Mary's wedding was open his wallet. Here now on this covert mission to retrieve a bag he felt useful.

The key clunked loudly and Robert found himself inside the cottage. He had inspected this cottage with his father many years ago just before Dr. Clarkson came to occupy it. The cottage could not rival the splendor of his home yet it wasn't spartan. If anything the home exudes warmth and love. Robert could tell from the marks in the rug that some furniture had been moved. No doubt to facilitate Isobel's sight.

On the sofa, near the fireplace, a dark blue Arran throw was over an arm. The way it was draped told Robert it was used regularly. Did Richard and Isobel sit together under this blanket on cold nights waiting for the fire to warm the cottage? Noticing that his thoughts were straying he quickly found the bedroom, Isobel's small vanity table was laid out precisely. Nothing was thrown haphazardly anywhere. He opened the wardrobe and saw that clothes were hung up neatly not only that but Isobel's reminded him of a spectrum-light to dark. Grabbing the bag he turned and regarded the bed. Two night tables bracketed it. One on side there was a lamp and Robert concluded that it was Richards side. He was curious to see books on Isobel's side. His mind conjured up an image of the two of them cuddled up while Dr. Clarkson read to Isobel. He put the book down and swallowed. Many a night was spent in his wife's bed yet that was her bedroom. There were no traces of him in it and he felt a slight pang of loneliness. Perhaps he could read with her in bed? With the bag in hand he left the Clarkson Cottage.


	17. Chapter 17

Reading in bed was not needed for Lord Grantham with the reappearance of Matthew and Mary and then Tom Branson in the middle of the night there was plenty to be done. Sybil would hopefully be arriving on the first ferry. Matthew and Mary had volunteered to get her. Tom swore that he had nothing to do with the burning. However, he had been labeled as a revolutionary by the Garda.

Robert could see that Tom was shaking over his worry of Sybil. He couldn't seem to sit or stand in one place, constantly moving. In the end Robert called Dr. Clarkson, "Can you give him something? Settle him down."

"He's refusing to take anything and there's nothing physically wrong with him."

"But he's in distress" Robert pushed.

Richard exhaled through his nose, "Yes, he needs support, emotional support. If a patient refuses treatment I'm bound to accept that...it's my oath."

Robert now knew he was treading into something that he shouldn't and he backed down. Luckily for him Edith was able to soothe Tom. In the morning Mary and Matthew went to Liverpool to retrieve Sybil. Carson had to admit when Lady Sybil was reunited with Tom you could see the love between them.

In the meantime Grantham had his hands full trying to protect his wayward son-in-law. He traveled to London to see what could be done. After his visits with lawyers he found himself wandering Harley Street. In one of the windows was a display of baby items and he found himself gazing at them. When he turned to leave he bumped into a gentleman. "Oh I am sorry." Lord Grantham apologized profusely.

"No need, no harm done." The man gestured to the window, "Someone in the family expecting?"

"My daughter is about to have her first." Robert supplied.

"Well congratulations, I'm an obstetrician myself" The man said as a way of introducing himself.

Lord Grantham returned from London feeling renewed. He had secured a future for Tom albeit in England and he had the address and telephone number for Sir Phillip Tapsell.

_Weeks Later_

Richard carefully placed his bag near the door, being careful to make sure it was aligned next to the wall so Isobel wouldn't trip over it.

"Another false alarm?" Isobel called from the kitchen.

"Yes, another round of prodromal labor but the time is nearing." Richard stated as he removed his jacket and placed it over the back of a chair. He leaned against the door jamb of the kitchen and looked inside. Isobel rolling out dough. She had begun cooking again, Mrs. Patmore felt a kinship with Isobel and when she mentioned that she would like to bake a cake for Richard's birthday help flooded in. Slowly she began tackling other tasks.

There was a class on learning Braille in Thirsk, when she mentioned that she wanted to go Lord Grantham offered a car. Edith offered to drive her maintaining her practice with the automobile. She now had braille labels affixed to canisters, now if her memory failed her she could identify different blends of tea as well as other items.

Richard still did the majority of the cooking and truth be told he was glad he could do something for her. Isobel was fiercely independent, she always had been. This streak was what first attracted him to her. He came up behind her and nuzzled her neck, "You smell yeasty."

She laughed before her fingers began trailing over the countertop-she was searching for something. Her hand finally closed around a circular cutter and she began removing circles of dough before putting them in a baking tin.

He didn't leave his position behind her, nor did he remove his hands from around her waist. He held her and watched as she then filled the dough with mincemeat before placing another circle on top. Mincemeat pies were his favorite and in this moment he was happy.

This time when he entered the cottage his bag fell from his hand with a thud. This noise let Isobel know something was very wrong. She had been in bed when she heard him come in. Generally she would listen for the telltale sounds of him lining up his bag and removing his coat. Tonight was different she couldn't even hear his footfalls. He hadn't moved from the entryway. She swung the covers off of her and went to him. She found his hand and she could hear his breathing was shallow.

"What's happened? Can you tell me? Do you even want to?" She asked quietly.

"That feckless buffoon." His accent was thick and Isobel swallowed. Whatever he was about to tell her was going to be bad. She stood by him just holding his hand. He was rooted to this spot and she knew it would be useless to move him. Her thumb gently caressed the top of his hand and he exhaled shakily, "Sybil is dead."

Isobel's mind whirled but she continued the motion of her the thumb. His unoccupied hand came up to scrub his face. "Eclampsia… with the whole bloody family watching. Tom and Cora they cried as it happened. Matthew...he shouted. After that I closed my eyes and waited. I didn't need to see her I knew the seizures were racking her body. And that bloody idiot was just gaping like fish that has been washed up on the shore."

Richard's hand applied a gentle pressure, letting her know her ministrations were welcome. He took a deep breath and ploughed on, "She never had thick ankles-no one listened. Bairn measured small-no one listened. She was that confused she babbled on about working shifts at the hospital when she saw me. That got Cora's attention. Albumin levels could reach the moon still there was no swaying them. Bairn was born and then quiet until she seized. That bonnie lass was 24."

"And the baby?" Isobel asked.

"A wee girl with a fine set of lungs on her." Isobel could hear his breath hitch and she ran her other hand along his face and was not surprised when she encountered tears. It was then that the placed his head on her shoulder and wept. She was honored that he would share his grief with her. He could have slunk off to one of the Pub's, gotten hopelessly drunk or done something stupid like get into a fight. Instead he came to her this fact had her wanting to protect him from the world. He didn't cry for long when he was done he apologized for getting Isobel's nightgown wet. This time she did pull him along, once in the bedroom she made him sit on the bed as she began undressing him. Everything was removed from him and when she was finished she stood and grabbed the hem of her own nightgown before removing it as well.

She pushed him gently and he complied getting into the bed. Isobel then spooned up behind him and wrapped her arms around him. They way they were situated reminded Richard of Isobel's hypothermia. Instead of body heat transfer Isobel was trying to pour all her love into her touch hoping that it could ease the dreadfulness of this night.

Pounding on the cottage door summoned him, accident at Drake farm probable broken leg. Isobel did not go back to sleep, instead she got up and found her black dress in the wardrobe it was the furthest on the right. When the sun rose enough for her vision to detect it she left the cottage and began walking slowly towards the abbey keeping to the footpath.

Carson met her at the door and she could hear the surprise in his voice, no one expected her to show up on her own. The butler ushered her in and she was led to the library. As her feet padded over the rugs she heard her name, "Cousin Isobel, is Dr. Clarkson with you?"

"No, he's at the hospital, a call came in very early this morning I came on my own."

Robert huffed, "Why on earth did you do that?"

Matthew who had been standing in the corner staring out the window snapped "She's blind not feeble... I'm sorry Lord Grantham I didn't mean to bark at you."

Robert deflated one son-in-law was cloistered upstairs with his granddaughter and his other son-in-law was apologizing to him.

Isobel offered her condolences and her heartfelt request that if she could do anything that they take advantage. She wanted to stay but knew this wasn't the time, she heard the step *thump* of a cane and knew the Dowager had arrived. Not wanting to partake in a verbal jousting session with the woman she turned to leave.

In the hallway Carson asked her to wait a moment. From her position Isobel could hear the conversation from the other room. They were discussing Tom.

_He wants his wife back, but that's what he can't have. I must write to Dr. Clarkson and have it sent down before dinner._

_"Darling, there's no need for that." Robert said no doubt trying to soothe her._

_"I should. I want to. I have to apologize for our behavior."_

_"What? Why?" Mary's voice was sharp_

_"Because if we'd listened to him, Sybil might still be alive. But Sir Philip and your father knew better, and now she's dead."_

The door to her right opened and Isobel held her breath hoping that Cora wouldn't notice her. Her wish was granted and soon the door was shut again by Carson as he led her out to the grand hall where Mrs. Hughes was waiting. "I'm going into town to purchase some stamps" The housekeeper told her softly.

Isobel nodded and the two women began walking towards the village.


	18. Chapter 18

The walk to the village passed in relative silence. The gravel crunched underneath their heels and a few birds squawked to one another. Throughout the walk Isobel could hear the quiet sniffles from Mrs. Hughes. Enough was enough. Isobel stopped and drew the older woman into her arms. The housekeeper sobbed and Isobel held her fast. Sybil had been beloved by all who knew her. It was a cruel thing of life that sometimes the good were punished and the bad were rewarded. Eventually Elsie quieted and the pair resumed their walk.

The tinkling of a shop bell confirmed to Isobel that she was near the village square. The post office was on the right and Mrs. Hughes took her leave. The ringing of shop bells struck a chord with Isobel. Sybil had left this world yet people were out and about living. The hospital was quiet. Making her way to the office she could hear the scratching of Richard's pen. The quickness and sharpness of the noise let her know he was signing his signature, "what are you putting your name to?"

Richard sighed, "Just finishing up the death certificate for Sybil Cora Branson."

"Jesus" she whispered.

The pen was quickly capped and Richard rose from his chair and walked over to her. He didn't touch her, he merely stood in front of her. Eventually she lowered her head until it came in contact with his chest it was akin to a benediction. Richard grasped her by her upper arms and gently pushed her back so he could kiss her forehead.

The day passed, and eventually more. The funeral was held and Sybil was laid to rest. During this time Matthew became a frequent visitor to the cottage. Sometimes Mary would accompany him and the four of them would eat dinner together. The mood at the abbey was gloomy but more so it was frosty. In private Matthew told Isobel of Cora's coldness towards Robert. Isobel listened to her son, letting him pour out his anxieties. However, she would not speak on how to rectify the situation since there was none. No magic wand could be waved to wipe this away.

In the weeks to follow Tom Branson asked to see Isobel, Richard escorted her there. The former widow and the new widower sat together in the nursery. Isobel could hear the coos of the baby. "I want to know what to do." Tom lilted.

Only a fool would ask if he was referring to the baby. "You go on, and sometimes the hardest thing you do will be getting out of bed in the morning. When Reginald died it was sudden and I had Matthew to care for. In the beginning you're surrounded by people but then they go.

You find you can't remember what day it is for they all merge into one long...age. I think the worst part was I would always buy brandy-his favorite. Even after he had been dead for years I couldn't pass by a bottle without thinking of him. Then one day I didn't... that day marked the end of my marriage."

Tom took a shaky breath, "It feels that way, that I'm still married."

"You are in your heart."

He sobbed and even though she couldn't see it he nodded fervently. She stood up and sat next to him finding his shoulder and gripping it.

"Let me tell you, it does get easier. Grief is a mountain that you climb and some days you want to die before you reach the peak. Then you get to the top and either you stay there and admire the view or you descend. If you do descent the way off of the mountain can still be perilous but eventually you do get down and when you look in front of you it is as if the mountain is gone but if you look behind you the mountain is still there."

Tom blew his nose, "Was Dr. Clarkson at the bottom of your mountain?"

Isobel wiped at her own tears, "Yes he was but I ignored him since I was too busy staring back at the peak."

He huffed a small laugh, "I think I understand."

She rose to leave him alone to process everything as she moved forward Tom spoke, "I'll try to climb."

Isobel smiled at him before moving towards the door.

Richard was with Lord Grantham in the library the Lord was a mix of tired, sad and defeated. It was not lost on him how Cora had not been seen with him in public most of the villagers would pass this off due to grief. The public display of mourning would be over soon and the black armbands would be put away until the next close death. He thought back to the Dowager's request he was a doctor a surgeon not a marriage therapist. Mrs. Hughes had sent up tea which was welcome diversion both men busied themselves with pouring tea. Grantham finally spoke, "Doctor I was wondering if you had any literature I could borrow?"

Richard was confused especially here in the grand splendour of the library. "What in particular were you looking for?"

When Grantham made his request Richard was surprised.

In the days that followed Cora found that she missed Robert whenever she felt this way she deliberately thought of Sybil. She passed by the dressing room, it had just been cleaned. The small bed looked forlorn. By the bed something new caught Cora's attention-Books.

Fingering a spine she noted that all of them were on pregnancy. Robert may be a proud man but things medical were not discussed. She remembered when Dr. Clarkson mentioned protein in Sybils urine and his voice was sharp reminding the doctor that women were present. She actually snickered at this, women went through more nasty things in their monthly courses and childbirth that a little mention of urine shouldn't phase them. Flipping through the book she saw that handwritten notes had been scribbled in the margins. She knew her husbands hand and it was not his however, it was familiar. It then struck her that these were Dr. Clarkson's books.

_Why couldn't he had listened to him then instead of now? Why listen to Sir Phillip?_

She dropped the book when the answer came to her. Tapsell was a Sir, Tapsell had an office in Harley street, Tapsell was English. All the things Clarkson wasn't. In America no one really cared which state you were from. Britain was different and it didn't matter how long she had lived here she still _thought_ like an American. Retrieving the book from the floor she put it back on the pile. Robert couldn't undo this mess and Sybil was his daughter too there was no way he wanted her to die. Here he was making an effort to learn to get over his anxieties of medical matters. She heard the voice of her father_ Cut the man a little slack._


	19. Chapter 19

Cora held Mary's hand telling her to relax. A white sheet covered her body while down below Dr. Clarkson worked. "Does it hurt when I press here?"

"No" Mary answered.

There were more touches and more questions. Mary was then directed to get dressed. Cora aided her and then they waited in Dr. Clarkson's office for what he would tell them, "You'll be pleased to know your cultures were negative for infection and upon physical examination I can't palpate, that is feel, anything untoward. I would like to refer you to a specialist."

"May I ask who did you have in mind?" Cora asked.

"Dr. Ryder." Clarkson delivered.

At this Cora smiled she knew of this doctor and if Clarkson vetted him there was nothing to worry about. The appointments were made and Mary would head to London. What Cora and Mary didn't know was Matthew had visited Dr. Clarson prior. The youngman stammered through his reason for booking his appointment. Richard took pity on his stepson, he had directed him to a enclosed area of the hospital with a specimen jar and told him to take his time. Matthew seemed like a man heading to the gallows when he reappeared to hand Richard the specimen jar-filled.

Dr. Clarkson had then withdrew a measured amount, mounted a slide on the microscope and checked the sperm for count and motility-it was healthy. When Matthew received his results he was relieved but still embarrassed. The embarrassment faded with the excitement of the upcoming cricket match loomed and the whole village seemed to buzz with it. Robert enjoyed the annual match he had even roped Tom into playing purchasing his son-in-law fresh whites. William Mason could no longer bat or catch however, he still wanted to be involved with the match. The elder Moseley groomed him to become an umpire. Isobel was not surprised that Richard had his own collection of cricket whites. One night he went through his box with her. Reginald had not been a sportsman while Matthew had played on team while he studied the law she didn't know much about Cricket. Richard explained it to her, his voice was laden with love for the game. He handed her a bat and ball and watched as her fingers explored the texture of the leather ball. Richard was genuinely pleased that Isobel was showing interest. He remembered prior matches as the wives and sweethearts would look on in poorly veiled boredom.

Lord Grantham was chosen as the Captain for the House while Dr. Clarkson had been selected to be Captain for the Village. On the day of the match men marched towards the pitch many carrying their own bats. It was if a war was about to take place, instead of armed combat it would be friendly and in the spirit of sport. Hopefully there would be no casualties.

The women were ensconced under a white tent, behind them was a buffet table. Edith had made a plate for Isobel who was relaxing in a chair. Isobel put the plate in her lap and began identifying the contents. When her fingers encountered something cold and sticky she withdrew them, "What is this?"

Before Edith could answer Richard came over and grabbed his wife's wrist before placing the fingers in his mouth sucking them clean, "Lemon Curd" he stated flatly before releasing his wife's wrist and moving to join his team. Everyone around Isobel was stunned, it was an intimate gesture performed out in the open yet at the same time it seemed oddly routine. Tom who had been watching laughed at the faces of those who had witnessed the event.

The match began and Isobel could tell by the applause and groans what was going on. Mary had her niece on her lap. Baby Sybil was a balm for the Crawleys providing a living link to the dearly departed. There was a short interval before they changed sides allowing players to get a drink. The house was now in the outfield and soon Edith announced that Richard was up at bat. Not for the first time did Isobel wish for her sight to be restored. She wanted to see him out in the sun watching the bowler and swinging the bat. Carson bowled and Isobel heard the *thwack* as the bat made contact with the ball. She was elated he had hit it, many today had not and had been "bowled out" as Richard had explained the night before. There was a chorus of "Catch it". Matthew dove for the ball however, it bounced from his hand and he did not rise from the pitch. The spectators groaned then were quiet. Richard should have scored his run but instead he ran to Matthew. Tom got their first and offering words of comfort but did not move him. When Richard got there he did a quick assessment before turning Matthew onto his back, "Dear God, look at his shoulder" Tom said.

Richard knew before he reached Matthew that he had dislocated his shoulder. Nonetheless he had to check to make sure there wasn't any more damage such as a broken clavicle. The shoulder would have to be put back in before the swelling necessitated Matthew being put under. More players surrounded Matthew. Lord Grantham told them to back up to let the doctor have room to work.

"Son you're not going to enjoy this but it has to be done." Richard said with care.

Matthew could only nod, he had broken out into a sweat and his face was pinched with pain.

Richard shot a look to Tom who understood. The Irishman grabbed Matthew from behind pulling him against his chest effectively pinning his good arm to his side so he couldn't interfere with the doctor. Richard then grabbed the limp arm and manipulated it. Matthew's howl was piercing but then he was quiet.

"I could use a belt." Richard requested.

One the players quickly surrendered his and the doctor used it strap Matthew's arm in place.

"What else can we do?" Lord Grantham asked.

"Is there ice in that tent?" Clarkson asked accenting his statement with a point of his finger.

The tall footman nodded, "Yes, sir. How much do you need?"

Richard made a motion with his hand to indicate a size, "Wrap the ice in a towel and we can ice the shoulder, help reduce the residual swelling."

It was a good thing that Mary had been sitting in the tent with Baby Sybil. When she saw Matthew fall she nearly fainted. Isobel knew that Matthew was in good hands with Richard yet part of her was screaming for her to get up and help. Edith had never left her side and narrated the events on the field.

Richard found it odd as he and Tom Branson escorted Matthew off the field there was applause. Injury shouldn't be treated as a trip to the theatre.

Matthew was deposited into a chair and the ice was applied to his shoulder. It didn't take long for Matthew to regain some color in his face and for him to stop sweating. Richard then gave Mary instructions on how to care for Matthew and if she had any questions or concerns to bring him to the hospital. Lord and Lady Grantham also listened in rapt attention to the doctor's words.

Richard found Isobel still in her chair, she seemed calm yet Richard knew better. He knelt beside her and kissed her face. "*kiss* he's *kiss* all right."

Inhaling deep through her nose Isobel allowed the breath to fill her. "Can we go home?"

Richard smiled and put his hand over hers to aid her in standing. He kissed in full view of everyone who was left and she kissed him back. "Anything for you."


	20. Chapter 20

As they walked back to their cottage Richard asked Isobel a question, "What frightened you the most at the match?"

Isobel considered this, she was concerned that she didn't know what was going on until Edith explained to her. "It's not so much fright as dread, the uncertainty of things. When Tom Branson came in after dinner so he and Sybil could announce their plans I felt my stomach freeze. It was because I had no clue as to how the others would react. Dread, pure dread. Today when Matthew fell all the villagers made a collective groan. I knew someone was hurt then I heard shouting but I knew you were there. Edith told me everything that was going on that with the mutterings of the crowd. You see when someone is desperately hurt as you know there is either wailing or complete silence. The crowd kept me well informed, I hazarded a guess that he had either broken his wrist or re-dislocated that shoulder. It's been a long time since he was a young boy but I do remember a time when only I could make things better."

Richard drew his arm around his wife and held her to his side, he too knew the feeling of dread she described. As a doctor he knew he couldn't save everyone and that there would be loses. His thoughts were broken when he felt her fingertips at the nape of his neck. "you need a trim"

He smiled at this, it was one of the perks of having a wife. She kept his clothes in order, warned him when his hair was getting shaggy, made sure he was fed and most of all loved. Wanting to switch subjects Isobel then asked him to regale her with tales of cricket matches previous and he obliged.

At the cottage they opened the windows to encourage the stuffy air out and the fresh air to come in. In the bedroom a gentle but steady breeze blew in moving the curtains, Richard sat on the bed and began removing his cricket whites. Isobel could hear the whispers of the fabric as it was removed. At this moment she wanted Richard, she wanted to lay with the conquering hero of the Cricket match. She removed her dress and went over to him.

"The windows are open, someone could hear!" he whispered in awe.

"Then we'll have to be quiet" She murmured as she placed a warm hand on his hip. "you can be quiet can't you?"

"What's gotten into you?" He whispered in fascination, not disdain, he was desperate to know.

"Not nearly enough." She murmured seductively before moving her hand again and he bit his lip to keep quiet.

In the street people walked by the cottage oblivious to the couple making love inside of it.

Matthew's shoulder was tender for days after he had dislocated it at the Cricket match. Instead of the belt Richard had given him a sling to keep the arm in place. While wrapping the shoulder something happened to Richard that had not happened since his early on in the war. He experienced an aura, a swirling light the corner of his vision. He gritted his teeth knowing that a migraine was on its way. He first experienced a migraine in medical school the sleepless nights, the stress and improper nutrition led to his first skull-bashing migraine. He had been mindful since then to try and control what he could to manage the headaches. He always knew when was coming for the telltale aura would signal oncoming pain.

At the beginning of the war when patients were flooding in he went two days without sleeping. A migraine had struck and he had cloistered himself in his office as much as he could with the shutters drawn on his windows. He finished examining Matthew and gathered his things while he had ridden his bicycle to the Abbey he found Lord Grantham and asked for a favor, "Lord Grantham, I was wondering if someone could drive me back."

"It's not raining is it?" Grantham asked.

"No M'Lord" Richard chewed his lip before carrying on, "I'm not feeling too well."

"Of course." Grantham said as he went to ring the bell. Before he could reach the tapestry covered pull Tom Branson who had been looking for a book and quickly came over, "I would be more than happy to drive him home."

Lord Grantham regarded the doctor he eyes were closing as he were standing out in bright sun and it was obvious that _something_ was wrong with him. "Maybe you should stay here?"

Richard made a fist and knuckled his eye, the pain was starting to set in. "I don't want to burden you."

Grantham was beginning to worry, "Nonsense you're family, you're stepfather to Matthew which makes you...I don't know a step brother-in-law to me."

Richard chuckled lightly before groaning.

Grantham worry intensified Clarkson's color had shifted from white to green. A basin was quickly found and the anguished doctor vomited into it. "What can we do?" Grantham asked.

"Isobel, I need Isobel." Richard whispered.

Branson nodded to his father-in-law before tearing off in the car to fetch her. Grantham called for Carson and between the two of them managed to get the good doctor to a bed. Branson controlled his fear and didn't bang on the cottage door. He politely informed Isobel to take a moment to collect anything she needed and come with him to the Abbey.

Isobel had no clue as to what she would find, Carson led her to the bedroom where her husband was Lord Grantham was keeping watch in a chair. Her hands found that he was on his side curled up. His hands were fisted in his hair.

Isobel's nursing took in, "Where is your pain? Can you tell me?"

"Migraine" he almost whimpered.

Isobel's mind went through options, "Have you taken any ergotamine?"

"Can't, past history of Hematemesis." He huffed out a breath.

"All right, option two." Isobel murmured. She asked for Clarkson's bag and it was quickly retrieved for her. Richard knew she was rummaging for a tranquilizer and he voiced his preference. He swallowed it quickly like a child who had nicked a sweet. This would be a different experience, Richard generally had to grit his teeth through migraines. He had tried ergotamine once and regretted it. While it aborted his headache it had upsetted his stomach more than the migraine and when he vomited he had brought up blood. The other method of treating migraine was tranquilizers so the patient could sleep off the headache which in his position as doctor he was reluctant to do.

"What time is it?" Isobel asked.

"Ten past ten." Grantham delivered.

"Twenty to eleven hopefully you'll be asleep." Isobel whispered knowing that normal voice volume might seem like bellowing.

"Anything else we can do?" Robert asked.

"Draw the curtains, keep it dark." Isobel then sat next to Richard on the bed and pried his fists from his hair. Using the tips of her fingers she massaged his temples eliciting a moan.

Lord Grantham left the room. Eventually Richard fell asleep and Isobel stayed with him. When it was apparent that he was "out" she too left the bedroom. She found the others in the drawing room.

Mary was discussing Richard, "You know it's odd, I never considered Doctor's getting sick. Never crossed my mind."

Matthew nodded, "I know the feeling, I couldn't believe it when Father died. I thought Mother must have gotten it wrong. Doctor's heal the sick...I thought it made them immune. I'm sure Dr. Clarkson will be fine especially if Mother has anything to say about it."

Isobel smiled, it had been a long time since Matthew had mentioned Reginald. Also it made her happy that there was concern for Richard. She was glad that Matthew had accepted him indeed all the Crawley's had. Robert noticed her by the door, "Isobel how is he?"

"Sleeping, mercifully." She moved inside the drawing.

"Does he need to go to hospital?" Matthew echoed Robert's earlier words.

Isobel shook her head, "He's suffering a migraine, a very severe headache. Sleep is the best cure."

Cora made a face, "I had a migraine once it was days after the birth of Sybil, wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy."

Robert was genuinely curious, ever since he had began his study on pregnancy he had begun reading more about the human body. While medical matters still made him squeamish he was no longer scared of them.

"Some people are predisposed to them, no one knows yet as to why. In this case it's stress and lack of sleep. There have been a rash of injuries lately. One of the men working for William Mason had an injury and they couldn't risk moving him in the wagon. Then there was a birth and just yesterday morning a child on Longview farm fell over a piece of farming equipment and needed some stitches." Isobel rattled off the list as if it were a shopping list.

Cora and Robert were struck by how much the doctor was doing. They weren't stupid they knew he worked hard but it was a sobering thought to how much he was working. Having him laid up in one of their rooms sleeping off a very painful and real condition had them fiddling with their teacups. Isobel asked periodically asked for the time. Later she went back to the bedroom to sit with Richard. She thought about all the times he had stayed with her in the hospital it was now her turn.


	21. Chapter 21

When Richard woke he didn't remember where he was. It felt as though someone had stuffed his skull full of wool. He resisted the urge to shake his head clear. Eventually his memory supplied him with the necessary details and he groaned in embarrassment. Isobel had heard him waking and moved towards the bed. She had a tumbler of water and she used her other hand to locate his elbow before offering the beverage.

"Thank you" he whispered hoarsely.

"How are you?" she asked quietly wanting to keep her voice low.

Richard assessed himself, "Groggy, nausea is gone."

"Would you like to go home?" Isobel asked already knowing the answer.

A huffing breath let her know she was right, "More than anything, nonetheless I need to go to the hospital first."

Isobel smiled inwardly, even though he was probably still feeling worse for wear he was still focused on the patients.

Nevertheless he explained himself, "You more than anyone would understand."

"Yes I do, I also think you should understand that you needn't explain yourself to me."

Richard hung his head, "I'm sorry, I forgot for a moment that you're on my side."

Tom Branson drove them back through the village in silence nearing the hospital the car slowed to stop and the two passengers While Isobel held no sway over a doctor being a nurse she definitely held sway as a wife over her husband. Richard did a quick set of rounds, made sure no new patients had been admitted and reviewed current orders on standing patients. Nora assured him that she would contact him if there were any developments. With that settled Dr. Clarkson transformed into Mr. Clarkson and was taken home by his wife.

As the next few days passed Richard noted that no one mentioned the incident. He was at the Abbey again doing a final check on Matthew's shoulder. He found the polite smiles a bit unnerving. He secured his bag to the rack on the back of the bicycle as he mounted it he heard footsteps on the packed gravel of the drive Tom Branson approached him. "Feeling better?"

Richard's right foot twirled the pedal, seeking better purchase for his foot, "Yes, and may I say you're the first to ask."

"Does that bother you?" asked Tom shrugging.

Richard scoffed, "No, it's just out of character for this lot."

Tom laughed at this he knew exactly what the doctor meant.

"Well it's to be had. Jesus, you frightened everyone." Tom explained.

"What?" Richard asked in confusion.

"You're a doctor, Matthew and Mary said it best, 'Doctor's heal the sick I thought it made them immune.'" Tom recited.

Richard shook his head, "No, we're human just like you are."

Tom's mouth curled up into a sly grin, "I already knew that, when you took a bite out of Sybil"

Clarkson's head shot up and he stared a Tom his mind searched frantically for a memory and one came forth: The mess over Lt. Edward Courtenay.

_Nurse Crawley I may not be your social superior in a Mayfair Ballroom but in this Hospital I have the deciding voice!_

When it was apparent that Tom knew that he had recalled the incident he added "Yeah, I know about that she told me."

Tom recalled that night how Sybil was both shocked and contrite. Tom had been a mix of gentle and curt when she had told him. "You have to understand that while your Granny may own the Village he is King of that particular Castle."

The two men smiled in joint recollection of Sybil.

Richard sighed, "I feel as if I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop."

"Don't, you'll just be wasting your time. You were ill, now you're better. It's not like you killed someone, it's not an offense worthy of blackmail."

"You mean I'm being an old woman?" Richard concluded.

Tom raised his thumb and forefinger with a tiny space between the two.

Richard laughed before pedaling off. From the window Lord Grantham had witnessed the scene. In this moment he was so grateful to Tom and so sorrowful that Sybil were not here for him to tell her of his gratefulness.

That day when Robert had escorted Isobel back to the room where Richard was sleeping, for some reason he stayed by the door and listened to the exchange between the two. He remembered that they had not taken honeymoon due to the Spanish Flu. His mind quickly put together a surprise to send them off on a Holiday. After Tom had returned from taking the Clarkson's back to the village he mentioned it to the others.

Mary and Edith were quick to announce their delight at the idea. Tom stood up and went to the side table and grabbed a decanter of whisky and poured himself some, he wanted to be occupied so no one would ask his opinion. The women eventually left for tea leaving the two men alone.

"You don't agree?" Robert had asked him, he knew that Tom was not a drinker so for him to grab whisky something was on his mind.

Tom downed his drink to give him courage, "I think a surprise would be catastrophic."

"Oh? Tell me why?" Robert asked genuinely.

"Lord Grantham" Tom began and Robert sighed inwardly, when Tom addressed him by his title he would probably not like what he had to say. "Dr. Clarkson is a proud man and the fact that none of us knew that he had these... headaches is like us not knowing about Mrs. Clarkson's eyes. They didn't want us to know, when we found out about Mrs. Clarkson what did we do? We made right arses of ourselves. The fact that he revealed it yesterday took courage for him, he could have pedaled home but he didn't, he asked for help. I think if we were to "surprise" him with a holiday right on the heels of this he would see it as us thinking he was weak. Or trying to oust him in someway. Don't get me wrong I think a holiday is a fine idea but perhaps for Christmas when he has time coming to him already."

Robert got up to pour himself a drink to consider the words Tom had said. All of it was true, everyone shouting about Isobel. How she left Downton Abbey and the frantic search afterwards. He was not going to risk Dr. Clarkson leaving. He raised his glass to Tom in acknowledgement, thanks and affection.


	22. Chapter 22

Tom's insight had been invaluable, Robert openly approached Richard and Isobel and asked if they had plans for a holiday. The last week of November and the first week of December they wanted to to travel to North. Robert kindly asked if he they would accept him upgrading their accommodations, they agreed. It was shockingly easy and made Lord Grantham rethink surprises in general.

They would take the train to Edinburgh, Isobel had expressed a desire to see the place that Richard had called home. Richard had already bought first class tickets for the train. Robert had telephoned the hotel they would be staying at to upgrade their room. Isobel was nervous about a great many things. The first was the train ride, would she get motion sick? Richard had thought of this and told her he would brew some ginger tea and take it with them in a flask. The next was how would she be accepted? Generally she didn't care what people thought of her and she still didn't it was Richard that she was concerned for. She hid this insecurity from him.

The bags were packed, and they were driven to the station. The train was waiting and with the help of the porter they loaded their luggage. Wanting to help Isobel had labels made in Thirsk of Braille with the name Clarkson so she could help identify luggage. She had also brought along a book, _Madame Bovary_. The staff at the center had suggested she start with books she had already read sometime ago. That way the plot was somewhat familiar and she wouldn't have to stop as much to figure out the words. Over time her fluency with Braille would increase. Richard was surprised to see that the book was actually in three volumes then he quickly remembered with the embossed nature of braille would make it impossible to have a compact book. She had the first volume clutched in her hand to give her something else to do beside focus on whether or not she was going to be sick.

Trains and automobiles and never bothered her but now with her severely blurred vision any trip longer than twenty minutes gave way to nausea. They situated themselves in their car and got comfortable, then the train lurched to begin it's forward movement Isobel clutched Richard's arm.

He held her hand with his right hand while his left arm slipped around he body to rest against her hip and pull her closer to him. It reminded her of the first days of her injury of how they walk like this in the back garden of Grantham Cottage Hospital. His solid body providing a point of reference.

Eventually her breathing evened out into something less ragged and Richard knew that her nausea had abated. He saw the book on top of her lap, "Read it to me." He asked softly.

They arranged themselves so Richard was pushed up against the corner of the car with Isobel against him. His arms were around her lightly and he could see over her shoulder into her lap where the book was. She opened the page and he watched in fascination as she brought her hands up. She used the tips of her fore and middle finger of her right hand to lead while the fingertips of her left hand trailed behind to keep her place. She was halfway through what looked like a sentence to Richard before she spoke.

_We were in study hour, when the Headmaster entered, followed by a new boy dressed in his everyday clothes..._

The trip was pleasant, they had to stop for coal and water along the route. It was during one of these stops that Isobel had a cup of ginger tea. The had gotten through a good portion of the first volume of Madame Bovary. Richard was proud of his wife on so many levels she could have refused to travel North and he wouldn't have pushed but that was unnecessary she wanted to go.

At the station a taxi was already waiting for them, another gift from Lord Grantham. They drove through the city center through Edinburgh, they would be staying in Liberton near the Medical School. When they arrived Richard helped Isobel out of the taxi and they went into the hotel. Another porter fetched their luggage as they went to check-in. Richard asked if Isobel wanted to go up to the room to change but she didn't. "I want to take a walk, stretch out from being in the train."

Richard pocketed the room key and cocked his elbow for Isobel to grasp. They left the hotel and walked through the streets. It had been a while since Isobel and been in the hustle and bustle of a city. The murmurings of everyone around her seemed so loud, everything was amplified it was quite a difference from the almost soundless quality of Grantham Village. They found themselves on the grounds of the Medical School and Richard began telling her of his time here. The excitement he had felt when he was accepted to study here, the first day nerves to the almost relentless exhaustion of the courses to finally becoming a graduate-a doctor. Hearing his story of how he joined the ranks of medicine differed from her brother and father. Her family was a bit more well off than the Clarkson's. Edward, her brother, really needn't bothered to apply to any medical school. Their father's status damn well secured a spot before he was born. Reginald had been different, however she remembered fiercely reminding Matthew that he was not as low as everyone thought.

_Mother, Lord Grantham has made the unwelcome discovery that his heir is a middle class lawyer, and the son of a middle class doctor._

Upper _middle class!_

The class system, the invisible disease that reached into everything. She had prided herself that she wouldn't get sucked into it but her remembrance of her assertion of Upper had her cheeks burning with shame. She would not make the same mistake again!

As they walked back along the grounds Isobel announced she was hungry. "Do you mind a Pub?" Richard asked.

"Not at all" she said sincerely.

Richard told her of the Pub that he and the rest of the students would frequent. He found a table in the back before excusing himself to use the lavatory. Isobel could hear the chatter of other patrons and smell the food from the kitchen. She heard footfalls approach but knew from the spacing that they were not Richard's.

"What would you like?" A woman's voice asked.

"I'm not sure, what's good here?" Isobel asked striving for a light tone.

The woman bristled at the English accent, "You're English" She said with a hint of disdain. "Well everything is written on the board Madam" She augmented her statement with a wave, "I'm sure you could find something you like."

Isobel recognized the clipped tone, this had been one of her other anxieties, how well an English woman would be received in Scotland.

She heard footfalls again and knew by the stride it was Richard, "Isobel you haven't been waiting long...Muriel?"

The woman turned at her name and regarded the man in front of her, "Richard? As I live and breathe!"

The woman launched herself at Richard who inhaled sharply before trying to dodge the kiss she was going to plant on his cheek. He put his hands out and reflexively blocked her advance.

"Yes it's me" he confirmed.

Muriel's eyes lit up, "What are you doing back up here? How long are you staying?"

Richard sighed before sitting down next to Isobel. Muriel had glossed over the fact that he was now sitting down next to a woman. Muriel was still talking about the last time they had seen each other. To make his point crystal clear he threaded his fingers through Isobel's hand and placed them on top of the table, "Since you ask my wife and I are on Holiday."

Muriel's eyes flicked over to Isobel before looking at Richard her eyes widened in recognition as she noted the challenge in Richard's eye.

He quickly gave an order for the two of them and she scurried off. Richard could feel through Isobel's hand that something was wrong much like he did the day he removed her cast.

"What is it?" he asked quietly.

She begrudgingly told him about the brief encounter and how she worried that her being English would bring him trouble. He sighed, he knew that this might be a problem. He knew she would encounter the same type of judgement that he himself experienced in England. However, there was more to this story.

"That woman, Muriel. She's worked here since I went to school. I think it was her dream to marry a doctor. She nearly did, I don't know what happened exactly. All I know was the engagement was terminated and I think she ended up marrying one of the owner's sons."

For some reason Isobel blurted, "Is she pretty?"

Richard was taken aback, "What?"

"I mean, is she..." she stopped

Richard could see the insecurity burning within her and could guess at the thoughts running through her head.

"She was blonde, still is thanks to the magic of peroxide. She is what you would call attractive, has nice features but her ambition marred all of that. I never really cared for her. There won't be women popping up asking me to recall that time we walked in the glen or went to the seaside." He delivered flatly and she believed him.

"It's not that, I wouldn't and don't care, it's just that you could have anyone" her hand subconsciously raised to her eyes and Richard understood her thought.

_You could have someone_ whole.

"I know right now you don't feel it but know you are all I have ever wanted. It just took me seeing you on that stretcher for me to get my arse in gear. I love you."

Isobel was fighting back tears, "I love you." She leaned in her nose nuzzling against his before she let her lips touch his. Their food arrived and Richard described the contents of her plate, "Cheese at two o'clock, bread at six and chutney at nine."

With the map of the food in her head she began to eat, there was something satisfying about a ploughman's also it was something she could eat with her hands and not fumble with a fork.

During their lunch Richard and Isobel were approached by the owner. Craig was married to Muriel and had better manners than his wife. Richard proudly introduced Isobel to Craig. "nice to meet you Isobel, Muriel says you're Engish, always knew Richard would marry a foreigner" he said in jest and Isobel laughed. Craig was very different from his wife.

This encounter was just was Isobel needed, she got hear tales of Richard's youth and she felt accepted. As Craig and Richard talked she could hear his accent thicken and she found she liked it. Also Richard's hand never left hers.

Craig asked, "What do you do Mrs. Clarkson?"

Isobel hesitated unsure of an answer so Richard provided one, "She's a nurse, works with me at the hospital."

Craig scoffed in amazement, "Marriage made in heaven you two."

At this Isobel flashed him a smile, "Quite right!"


	23. Chapter 23

After lunch Isobel reflected on her momentary weakness. She had meant what she had said, she wouldn't and didn't care about the women in Richard's past. However, at that particular moment she just couldn't believe that she was the woman that he wanted. That somehow she was the last apple in the barrel. It was nonsense and she was determined never to let it happen again.

Richard was slowly settling into the holiday. For him there was always an adjustment period. He noted others on the train platform vibrating with excitement for their upcoming trip. It was rare that he had uninterrupted moments. His work at the hospital kept him busy and there were always calls for him to come out to wherever in the Village. Even on his days off he would be called in. He knew it was unlikely that something would happen on the train but it took him strolling the streets with Isobel now to finally let down his guard. Meeting Craig and Muriel had been a boon. Isobel got to see that yes Scotland was just the same as anywhere else, there were people that were accepting and those that weren't. It didn't help the long standing feuds between the countries.

At the hotel Richard opened the door and went in surveying quickly for obstacles. He quickly told Isobel that there was a table on her left and the bed was to her right. Isobel's elbows were cocked and her hands splayed. She mentally laughed at small children who would play games blindfolded, many would put their hands up at shoulder level. Forgetting that most objects were at waist level. When her thigh rammed into the edge of table her mind quickly supplied

_Not everything is at waist level._

The pain was sharp and tears sprang to the corners of her useless eyes. She staggered and instantly he was there. An arm encircled her waist while the other traveled down her side to where her hand was covering her injured leg. "You all right?"

"Yes, just came sharp." She delivered before exhaling. "Somedays I nearly forget that I'm blind and then something like this happens...damn."

Richard knew not to utter anything deemed comforting for it was not. He knew from experience that she needed to feel this sense of melancholy so she could overcome it. All he could do was hold her so he did. Eventually she gently pushed him away, and gave him a smile. Their bags had been sent up, Richard all but commanded Isobel to take a bath while he put away their things. As he hung up her jacket her scarf fluttered to the floor. He picked up it, marveling at the the texture.

Isobel luxuriated in the bath, it was just what she needed. The warm water soothed her muscles from a day of travel and eased the ache she just sustained with the table. She toweled off and went to grab her dressing gown. Her hand reached for the material on the peg but something stiled her movement.

Richard could hear the measured pattern of her steps. She had gone back and counted after the incident with the table. She neared the bed and he could feel it dip under her weight. She smiled, he had turned down the bed. Her fingers were splayed as she reached out for him. She was surprised when his hand found her skin first. "You're nude!" he whispered in awe.

"So are you" she whispered back. "I guess strolling out in the nude wasn't as big as a entrance as I thought." She giggled.

Richard inhaled through his nose as deeply as he could, letting the breath reach his toes. "I couldn't see you Isobel."

Her forehead wrinkled in confusion, she could tell that the lamp was still on. Her fingertips found his face and she trailed them upwards until she felt the softness of silk. Richard was wearing a blindfold, it was her scarf.

"Kiss me" she commanded with confidence.

Richard had been sitting up on the bed and leaned forward, lifting a hand to find her. His fingers collided with a shoulder, he noticed that his movements felt awkward almost clumsy. With a vague orientation he hoped he was in the general direction of her face and leaned in. His lips met the corner of her mouth. He simultaneously rejoiced and scolded himself for getting part of the mouth but not the area he had aimed for. His hand found her jugular notch, resting the tip of his middle finger there letting his other fingers splay out over her chest. He knew where her centerline was. This time when he dove back in for a kiss he found her lips.

Isobel let him explore keeping her hands on his shoulders. She found this experience highly erotic on many fronts. The first was the fact that Richard had been willing to surrender his senses _to_ her for her. Also his nuzzling along the juncture of her shoulder and neck had her thrumming.

Richard mapped her face with his hands, his nose, his forehead all the points of contact he made sharpened the image in his mind. Wanting more of the image he hand trailed down her side. As he counted along her ribs he recalled making love to her on the floor of his cottage how he had named each place he had kissed. This was so different, he couldn't see what he was kissing. He had to identify it through touch while it wasn't impossible he felt as though there was a huge lag. He would touch Isobel, feel the area, identify it in his mind then move his hand up or down to find the desired area. He felt as if he were stuck in time while it sped on around him. Isobel was right with him. Her hands had left his shoulders to toy with his hair.

Suddenly realizing that they were both sitting up on a perfectly good bed he pushed Isobel down. His own hand reaching behind her head making sure he wasn't pushing her into the headboard. As she settled against the pillows he nuzzled her neck again and inhaled, she smelt fresh and clean.

Isobel could feel the silk of the blindfold as Richard's face neared hers for a kiss. Above her she could feel the heat from his body. Her hands found his chest and she moved her hands down. Richard gasped as her fingertips trailed down his chest to his stomach. His arms collapsed under him and landed on Isobel. She had been counting on this, capitalizing on his shock she turned on her side and pushed Richard onto his back. She then sat up, grabbing his hands she could hear his breathing change.

"Did I hurt you?" He rasped.

"Not at all", she delivered sweetly. Her hands were still holding his and she placed them on her hips so he wouldn't remove his blindfold. He held on, as she moved her body Richard's breathing changed again. One of her knees nudged his before disappearing to reappear by his other knee. Richard's mind quickly supplied an image-she was straddling him.

He wanted to look, he wanted to see her in all her glory. In his mind's eye he could see her, head thrown back hair trailing down her back. As she sank down on him he cried out for the sensation was overwhelming. The cool air hit him as she rose up and he thought he would shiver but she sank back down bringing pleasure and warmth. His fingers dug into her hips and he found he couldn't be quiet.

"Isobel, god!" He muttered and moaned.

She moaned herself letting their voices blend. Keeping her pace steady she moved. Moving upwards she could hear hip suck in a breath only to release it in a moan as her hips met his again. The sounds he was making and it was because of her. She felt powerful, she felt beautiful, she felt whole. Using a hand she noted that his neck was arched, his chin pointing directly to the ceiling. His whole body was taut resembling a bowstring. Wanting that string to uncoil her hand smoothed over his scalp before threading a finger through the blindfold and yanking it off.

Richard's vision was returned to him, he stared a Isobel her image slight blurred due to the fabric that had been pressing on his eyes. Nonetheless she was gorgeous. The image he had in his mind was crude in comparison. Her chest heaved as she gulped for breath, breasts bounced as she moved up and down. Pressure gathered around his hips as her legs began to squeeze.

Her head fell forward and he saw her face, he watched as breathing increased into sharp gasps before she seemed to stop breathing altogether. A wail escaped her throat and her body arched forward over him her hair spilling around her shoulders. He could feel it, he could _see_ it and it broke him as well. His low grunt was counterpoint to her high emission and his fingers gripped her hips tighter as his own hips rolled against hers.

Her thighs trembled and she fell forward. He gathered her up into his arms and rolled them onto their sides. He managed to ensnare the bedclothes and cover them up. The air the room suddenly too cold for their sweat soaked skin. What they had just done, that was love. Each giving the other what they would want. Richard had gladly given Isobel his sight and she had returned it to him. He kissed her temple and exhaled shakily as he held her. He thought back to the conversation in the pub.

_It's not that, I wouldn't and don't care, it's just you could have anyone_

Richard said a quick thanks to whomever was listening that Isobel had chosen him.


	24. Chapter 24

Over the next few days Richard took Isobel on a tour of his old stomping grounds. A bus took them into the countryside and Richard took Isobel on a walk. They kept to a footpath until Richard announced that they would have to navigate a stile. Isobel laughed, she was looking forward to it. She knew what a stile was but her experience with them was lacking. She had spent most of her life in cities. Moving to Downton was the closest to country living she had experienced. Once her feet and gloved hands made contact with the wood she felt Richard beside her. While it had been sometime for him he effortlessly navigated the obstacle. Richard smiled as he was still able to launch himself up and over the top of the fence. Once he was over his hands went back to her. Between voice commands and touches she was able to negotiate the stile. Over on the other side she could feel the unevenness of grass beneath her feet.

"I take it we're in a field?"

Richard removed his gloves shoving them in a pocket before removing Isobel's. He placed her hands over his left one encouraging her to explore. As her fingers trailed over his hand she felt the crookedness of his left forefinger and remembered that he had broken it.

"Is this where you broke your finger?"

Richard chuckled, "Well the field is, the actual spot it a little walk...care to go?"

She nodded and they proceeded off. Richard then told her of the days that he and the other boys of the village would run to this field to play. The games played were a mix of nonsense and strategy. Richard could almost hear the voices of his young playmates shouting at each other in merriment. In the corner of the field next to another fence was the tree, it was still here after all this time. As they neared he slowed, "This is it. You see I won a round of conkers and Scott owed me a ha'penny. That was the bet, he then ran for the tree intent to stay up there. As he was climbing I grabbed at his ankle he then kicked at me and broke my finger. I heard it snap but I didn't feel anything. Scott had looked back to see what the noise was and saw my hand he forgot about his climb and fell down out the tree. So now there were two of us hurt. Gilbert took me home and Michael took Scott. My dad had broken his own fingers growing up and fashioned a splint out of some scrap wood. Never did get my ha'penny."

Isobel had listened to Richard's story intently, her hand on the tree. These past few days had been wonderful. Not only did she get to hear the tales of his past but she was at the actual place. She could touch this tree and smell the field. It gave her a better sense of connectivity with her husband. She remembered the cricket box and how patient he was with her explaining the game answering all her questions. "Thank you for showing me this."

Richard smiled, he loved it when she referred to something as "see" or "show", his brave sweet Isobel wasn't going to change her language to become a victim. Richard then asked, "What about you? Any childhood scrapes?"

Isobel thought about it and shook her head, then a thought came to her. Richard watched as her face went slack and her breathing increased.

_She was in the passenger seat of a van. The driver was going at a breakneck speed, they were needed. The Red Cross had assured them the area was safe. However, recent shelling was evident and had created divots more like huge craters in the road if the muddy dirt could even be called a road. She saw a puddle and felt dread, the van hit it._

"We were in a convoy. They put me in the front next to the driver."

Richard swallowed he had seen flashbacks before with soldiers and knew that Isobel was remembering. He let her talk, he didn't interfere with the breakthrough of her memories. "I saw a puddle and thought 'It's going to be deep' I grabbed the door...it didn't help. I felt my stomach drop I hit the roof of the van then I don't remember. I woke up to another driver telling me I would be taken home. The driver of the van I was in I think he's dead."

She tried to get her breathing under control but couldn't, her stomach was in ropes and she gagged. Richard quickly held as he did in the back garden of the hospital. She heaved and vomited up the breakfast they had had in the hotel. Richard had been waiting for this, he knew that the memory would surface sooner or later. He was thankful that he had been with her when it happened. He didn't want to come home and find her sweat soaked and hyperventilating in the corner of the cottage. They were the only two people around for miles, she could scream if she wanted to at the injustice of it. She could cry and no one would hear to judge her. She did cry, her tears punctuating her memories since she had no words. Richard removed his overcoat and placed it around Isobel. She needed the extra warmth to combat the shock. She was nestled against him and he wouldn't move until she was ready.

Like two shipwrecked sailors they clung to one another waiting for the waves to push them to an island.

When she was ready he asked her if she wanted to go back to the bus stop. He wondered if she wanted to get anywhere near a vehicle. At his concern she laughed, "I think the paved roads of Scotland will be safer than France."

He inwardly smiled at her statement, nonetheless he was prepared to walk all night and carry her if need be. The bus arrived and Richard directed them to the back where there was an empty bench seat. Sitting side-by-side the bus began to move. However, as the bus continued on it's course Isobel was moving closer and closer to Richard. Then the wheels went over a rough patch and Isobel was practically in Richard's lap. He crossed his arms over her letting her know he understood and that it was all right. The bus wasn't that full and most of the passengers were in the front. Their position in the back offered them some privacy.

The fresh smell of the countryside was soon replaced by the industrial smells of the city. Richard's arms tightened as he saw the stop nearing. The brakes squeaked slightly causing Isobel to jump but Richards arms were tight around her securing her. They disembarked and Isobel spoke, "can we walk some more? I don't want to go back to the hotel just yet I need to be out."

"Absolutely, are hungry though?"

If on cue her stomach growled, "yes, I do believe I am."

They ate in an upscale restaurant, Richard dutifully reading to Isobel the menu. After their meal they went out. Isobel noted that Richard slowed his pace, "What is it? What are we passing?"

"A book shoppe." He answered.

Smirking Isobel pushed him towards it. She knew he loved books but had an odd sense of chivalry when it came these establishments and her. He could spend hours in one and felt it unfair to her. Isobel on the other hand felt it was unfair for him not to go. Knowing that he wouldn't fight her he allowed her to move him towards the entrance. Inside she could smell the odor of the paper and the slight tang of the leather which bound some of the books. The proprietor gave a cheerful greeting which Richard returned.

There was a chair in the corner and Richard directed Isobel to it. She sat and whispered to Richard to take his time. As she sat she enjoyed the silence, she could hear the whisper of pages and the soft thunk as books were pulled and then replaced on shelves. Her inner thoughts were broken by a soft voice, "Can I help you find anything Ma'am?"

Isobel turned towards the voice and thought about the nights she and Richard spent in bed reading. Long ago they had finished the greek myths perhaps it was time for a different sort. "What books on mythology do you have?"

The proprietor of the shoppe had noticed Isobel's nystagmus and had also taken note of how Richard had guided her and had deduced she was blind. "May I escort you to the aisle?"

They way he spoke told Isobel that he knew of her condition. As she stood he gently nudged her with his elbow which she reflexively grabbed. He then led her to the area, "Greek mythology?"

"Read those already" Isobel said quietly with pride.

"Hmmm, how about Egyptian myths? We got some books in a few years what with the fervor of the discovery of the Rosetta Stone." He then began pulling a few books which he gave to Isobel to feel. She chose a small leather bound edition and was led back to the chair she was sitting in. Soon she was joined by Richard who had a few volumes himself. They paid for their books which were wrapped before placed in a bag. they had spent a good portion of the afternoon in amongst the tomes and both were tired. This time the suggestion of the hotel was met with enthusiasm.


	25. Chapter 25

That night Isobel was lulled to sleep by the story of Isis and Osiris. She listened to murder of Osiris by his brother Set. How Osiris was chopped into pieces and scattered all over Egypt. Isis traveled and eventually pieced him back together and he was resurrected and they were able to have a son-Horus. It was interesting to note all the pitfalls these couples had to go through to be together. In the Egyptian myths as well as the Greek ones there was intervention from the Gods. This made her think of Mary and Matthew, of all the obstacles they had encountered and overcome. Matthew was heir then all of a sudden he wasn't. Once he was heir again War called him away. Eventually they did marry but so far a child was not forthcoming.

What lengths would they have to go through to have a child? She pushed these thoughts aside and snuggled closer to Richard's chest. He shut the book and switched off the lamp. His hands threaded through her hair. He didn't know what type of mood she was in at the moment. She had run the gauntlet of emotions today. Whatever she wanted he would do. If she wanted to be held he would hold her all night. If she wanted to make love he would happily touch her all night. He just didn't know what she wanted and he was waiting for her to tell him.

He didn't have to wait long for she pushed up and kissed him.

In the morning they walked along the River Forth and Richard asked a question that he had longed to know the answer for. "how did you and Reginald meet?"

"We met through my brother Edward. They were at school together, it was quite strange you see Edward asked if I could write him a letter since he didn't receive much post from his family. After that exchanged letters regularly and it led to a proposal." Isobel smiled at the memory, "He would still write to me after we were married. A note here, or he would have written something while he was away and have it sent. Sometimes it would arrive well after he was home but it gave me comfort that he we was thinking of me, that I was still important even while he was working."

"Love letters?" Richard asked.

Isobel laughed, "More like a rundown of his day and how he missed me. Reginald was never overt even if he was allowed to be."

They continued on the walk, listening to the rushing of the river and trying to commit everything into memory.

Soon the day arrived and it was time for them to leave. On the morning of their departure Richard had asked the hotel kitchen to brew some of the ginger tea he had brought with him. They had asked if he were planning a picnic and needed sandwiches. He smiled a little sadly and told them it was for his wife to combat nausea she sometimes had due to her vision impairment. Upon hearing this the kitchen not only brewed the tea and filled the flask but also provided some ginger biscuits wrapped in brown paper for the trip.

The porters at the station loaded their luggage and they boarded the train. To ward off any nausea Isobel helped herself to a cup of ginger tea while the other passengers loaded. Soon the green signal flag was given and train moved forward. Richard and isobel arranged themselves as they previously did on the train. Richard watched and listened as Isobel's fingers opened the last volume of Madam Bovary. She was gaining ground with Braille, her fingers seemed fly and she was confident in her reading. During a break Richard asked, "How do they make that?"

Isobel was confused for a moment before stuttering, "Th-There's a machine in Thirsk...looks like a typewriter."

"Oh, here have a biscuit they're quite good" Richard said in between bites of his own biscuit. Isobel smiled at her husband and graciously accepted the baked good. He was right it had a good bite to it and the ginger was welcome to quell any lurking nausea. At the train station in Downton the pair was met by Matthew and Mary. They had been more than willing to pick the pair up from the station. Richard went to grab the luggage and was waved off by Matthew the bags were loaded and they all piled into the car.

The cottage was warm upon entering, apparently another mysterious benefactor had come in and piled the post on the small table near the door and made the fire for them. Bags were unpacked and clothes put into piles for washing and other purposes. Isobel placed the items she had bought on the small chair near the wardrobe. Christmas would be here in less than three weeks and she had gotten a few things in Scotland. Richard smiled as she carefully placed the items in a pile. Giving each one a loving touch and whispering the name of the recipient. It was like watching a vicar give a blessing. Richard was doing his own ritual of sorts, even though he knew his bag was right where he left it and full of essentials he checked it. In the morning he would be going back to the hospital.

The weeks leading up to Christmas were swift, there were a rash of injuries from burns from cooking of Christmas Puddings to stitches being sown for cuts from Christmas tree cuttings. Through it all Richard was home every night to read more of the Egyptian Myths. They had been invited to the Abbey for Christmas. Tom Branson picked them up and helped carry all the parcels into the house. Cora joked that they looked like elves. The servants had already had their presents and luncheon, soon it would be time to eat for the family. In the meantime presents were handed out. Isobel drank in the sounds delight as presents were torn open. A gasp of delight here, a squeak of surprise there followed by stammering gushing thanks. She had been gifted a bottle of French perfume from Matthew and Mary.

Matthew was surprised when Mary shoved a box in his face. He shook it theatrically before tearing into it. Inside beneath tissue was an envelope with the seal of The Cottage Hospital. Curiously he opened it.

_I, Dr. Richard Clarkson, can confirm the condition of primigravida in Lady Mary Crawley._

Matthew was confused he had no idea what this word meant. Nonetheless it must be good for Mary to give it to him as a Christmas present. He didn't know who to approach going on instinct he went to his mother's side. "Mother, what does primigravida mean?"

Her head turned instantly to him, "Where did you see that?"

He placed the paper in her hands, "letter from Dr. Clarkson about Mary."

She smiled and leaned over to him whispering in his ear, "It means that you're going to be a Father."

Matthew shot a look to Dr. Clarkson who just nodded deeply in confirmation. The young Crawley rushed to his wife's side and they whispered excitedly. Richard then moved to sit next to Isobel. "You knew?"

"Of course I'm her doctor." Richard replied and she could hear the smugness in his voice.

"you didn't think to tell me?" She whispered.

"Confidentiality" he murmured.

Isobel scoffed, before she could become irate Richard placed something in her hands.

Richard was then called off by Lord Grantham to open a gift. Isobel then examined her present. It was rectangular in shape, when she opened it she found it was the stiff cardstock of braille paper. Her fingers quickly found the orientations and traced over the bumps.

_Watching your fingers caress the pages of a book makes me ache for you to touch me. _

She knew she had translated it right but she went over it again to make sure. Continuing on-

_When you do touch me it alleviates the ache but then makes it grow. I need more of your touch to soothe me. I love your taste, I find myself running my tongue over my lips in the hospital to catch it again. _

Isobel was sure her cheeks were burning but she did not stop. So caught up in the letter she was.

_I know you worry about losing touch with other senses. I know the feeling. When we make love I feel as though the world is slipping away but then you call my name or hold me close and I know you are there. You are always there and I will be here whenever you need me. _

Her fingers came to the end of the letter. Three more words so simple yet powerful.

_I love you_


	26. Chapter 26

Richard hadn't experienced a christmas like this in sometime. While Lord Grantham and his family were far richer and the house more grand than he had grown up in the camaraderie and bickering of the family atmosphere was familiar to him. It was quite a change for him to have christmas with people. Isobel was vibrating with delight as the presents she had chosen were opened. She herself had been pleasantly surprised. Lady Grantham and Lady Edith had gifted her with a new shawl or wrap as Edith had called it. Both had told Isobel that they had chosen it on feel rather than its looks but were quick to add that the look was elegant. Richard had chuckled when both Cora and Edith had rubbed the material against their cheek a move that he had seen Isobel do when identifying her gloves. Matthew and Mary had also gone for a gift for the senses-a bottle of perfume.

Richard was tad apprehensive, when he had come with his idea it had seemed so perfect. Yet all ideas are perfect in the abstract. He had traveled to Thirsk on business and spent the afternoon ensconced with the Braille machine. The staff who ran the Braille classes were more than happy to him use the machine. At first he was going to transcribe a letter he had penned yet when he was faced with the task of pushing keys and saw how long the letter would be when transcribed into Braille he rethought his plan. Looking at his original letter even he felt it was too long. It needn't be an epic on all of the things he loved about Isobel for that would fill a book. A love letter, a short yet detailed account of the things he loved about Isobel. He knew exactly what he wanted to say yet he found that he didn't have the courage to touch the machine. Snarling at his inner coward he pressed the first key and it hit the paper with a muffled thud. He then remembered that this machine would be embossing paper not transferring ink, more keys were pressed and he began his letter. He had to retype it twice due to incorrectly pressing the wrong keys.

Another apprehension was when to give it to her. He could have just given it to her in the cottage but he wanted it to be more special. It was doubtful that the letter would survive a mailing and since he collected the post she wouldn't get the same rush seeing that a letter was for her. Also he wasn't above a little male pride. He could openly give her this infront of everyone since none of them knew Braille. It could be their little secret of sorts. When Matthew had opened Mary's gift of the letter he had written for her and seeing the joy on the couples faces he decided that it was time for Isobel to get hers.

Luckily as soon as he handed it to her Lord Grantham called him away. The fifth Earl of Grantham had gifted with some new leather boots. Richard was touched, the boots were of high quality leather and would stand up to pounding of call outs, mud, his bicycle and other hazards of being a doctor. Lord and Lady Grantham could have given him a new suit but thought better of it. Dr. Clarkson was in a strange position, he had attained a title through a noble profession. Also he was now married to a woman of status. However, they still lived somewhat modestly, living in the cottage not Crawley house yet they dined in the Abbey from time to time. The boots were a perfect gift something useful instead of a gilded knick-knack.

From his position Richard watched Isobel as she carefully removed the wrapping paper from his gift. He watched as her hands gracefully skimmed over the cardstock. Fingers splaying in recognition of what she held. He held his breath as her fore and middle finger of her right hand began trailing over the surface of the paper. Her left hand trailing behind in what looked like a caress. He knew he had gotten her attention when her head cocked to the side and her fingers went back to the beginning. She read the first sentence again and he could finally breathe. Ever the doctor he watched as her respiration rate quickened no doubt her pulse along with it. Also noted was the slight flush on her neck and chest. He had memorized the lines of the letter and could tell by the position of her hands where she was in it. He hoped that she truly understood how she made him feel. While he could talk to patients about disease and diagnosis talking about his feelings had him wanting to head for the nearest moor. He remembered his proposal to her

_Isobel, I know now probably isn't the best time. Nonetheless, will you be my wife?_

any other man would have gotten down on knee with flowers and chocolates. He had just asked and he was so lucky she had said yes. This was his time to be brave and to put all the words he wanted to say into a form she could hear.

She seemed to sigh when she reached the part of the letter about how he felt when they made love. He knew that she was terrified of losing her hearing or another loss of sense. She had gotten a splinter earlier in the week and while it was easy for him to extract the small puncture had wreaked havoc with her emotions. She had cried to him, worry over what would happen if she burned or cut her hands badly?

_How can I read a book or even touch you? I need to be able to touch you, feel your skin, your warmth your life!_

Richard had held her to him and then placed his wrist gently against her lips, "Feel my pulse" he had commanded in the same tone he had used when he had commanded her to feel his arm when he had removed her cast. For them that night ended in a tangle of limbs as Isobel felt all of Richard's body with her hands, arms, legs and mouth. With this letter she now knew that he too had felt the drowning sensation and knew that she had saved him. It was cliche but they had saved one another. Her fingers neared the end, the three words he had found easiest to type with the machine.

_I love you_


	27. Chapter 27

As it was tradition in the evening a game of charades the servants had written down book titles for the upstairs to act out, Isobel volunteered to go first. She chose a slip of paper and Carson dutifully whispered to her what the slip of paper said. Methodically she took measured paces to the spot. She made a book with her hands before putting up two fingers.

"Book title...two words!" Edith and Mary cried together.

Tom laughed at the show of his his sister-in-laws, he was sitting on a chair with Sybbie in his arms. His daughter had managed to fall asleep even with the ruckus and he was enjoying holding her. Carson was near should Sybbie need to be taken out before the nanny got to her. While the butler may not have warmed to Tom inititally they now had an understanding. More so Carson doted on Sybbie the young Branson was loved by all.

One finger, "First word" Matthew and Richard announced.

Isobel mimicked pouring liquid into a glass.

"Tea!" Edith shouted and Isobel shook her head. More shouts of guesses to which Isobel shook her head in the negative.

"Pour?" Tom said hesitantly and Isobel nodded yes.

Two fingers were then held up, "Second word" a chorus of voices shouted. Isobel then stripped off her glove and rubbed it against her cheek.

"Feel" Cora shouted. "Silk" Edith added.

Richard had seen her do this when she was identifying her gloves, he knew she discern light and dark but with subtle colors she had problems. Her gloves she currently had on were black so he shouted, "Black!"

Isobel turned in the direction of her husband, her hand splayed her signal for him to continue. "Pour Black?" he asked.

She nodded but put her hands in a blocking motion signalling that there was a problem. She then rubbed her glove against her cheek again and shook her head. All eyes in the room were alternating their gaze between Richard and Isobel. They seemed to communicate differently than the other couples, there was no shouting, no silly guesses. It was almost as if they were speaking mind to mind.

"not black, white" Richard said with confidence and Isobel smiled and nodded.

"Poor White" he said.

Isobel gave the thumbs up.

Lord Grantham spoke, "What book is that?"

Cora leaned over "Not pour as in pour tea but poor as in no money-_Poor White_. A novel written by an American."

"Sherwood something" Richard chimed in.

Eyes turned towards Richard and he shrugged, "saw it in a shoppe in Scotland."

Richard was relieved when Sybbie's nanny appeared to take her to bed. Before Tom handed off his sleeping daughter she made the rounds and was bestowed a kiss by her auntie's and grandmother.

More titles were acted out and laughter bounced off the walls. Being a good sport Richard chose a slip of paper. He scoffed before taking his place while it was a given that these were book titles he made the book sign with his hands and then held up two fingers. He started with a perfect military salute.

"Salute" Matthew shouted pointing at Clarkson.

"Military" Tom chimed in.

Richard then saluted and touched his shoulder. "Epaulette" Matthew cried and Richard shook his head.

"Rank" Isobel said softly and he nodded and snapped his fingers a signal to Isobel so she knew she was right. He then jabbed his thumbs at himself.

"Major" Matthew and Robert bellowed in unison, Richard spun his hand and both Matthew and Robert cried, "The Major!"

People showed confusion until Edith spoke, "Novel by a Canadian, Ralph Connor I believe."

More rounds were played, Richard found himself near tears with the display by Lord Grantham trying to act out _The Tree of Heaven_. The Earl's impression of a tree rivaled a drunk trying to stand up straight. It was good time to be had by all. Soon it was time to retire, a guest room had been made up for Richard and Isobel.

Richard and Isobel were climbing the stairs. Isobel had taken off her shoes and carried them in one hand Isobel reflected on the day, it had been a golden Christmas. She had received the news that she would be a grandmother. That the Gods had intervened just as they had in the Greek and Egyptian myths. She smiled inwardly she doubted that Mary and Matthew would name their child Horus. Richard had given her a love letter, a true love letter. They came to a small landing and she put her unoccupied hand out to stop Richard. He did and turned toward her. Her gloves had been removed and were draped over a shoulder and she moved her hand to his face. She traced a cheek before pressing herself up to kiss him. Tom saw them and remembered seeing something similar. This time he did not look away, he watched two people very much in love exchange a kiss. He thought of Sybil, "I still love you" he whispered into the air. He still missed her terribly but his new position at Downton Abbey had given him a position. Sybbie was the reason he got out of bed in the morning and he enjoyed his work so it was reason to be glad.

The servants had dutifully removed any footstools or any other object on the floor of the room Richard and Isobel were going to stay in so there was an unobstructed path. The fire was lit so there was no need for lamps. They spend Christmas night here before heading back to the village for Boxing Day. That way the hospital staff could get away for their own festivities. This was the first Christmas that Richard had taken and the staff were more than willing watch over the hospital for him. They undressed in silence, the fire was producing a lot of heat. Richard merely wore his pajama bottoms to bed. Isobel found this to her liking as she snuggled against him. This was a new experience, he had been in the Abbey on many occasion generally for a formal gathering, the fundraiser for the hospital during the War came to mind, or to treat a patient. He had occupied a bed here for an afternoon during his migraine but he had never spent the night as an invited guest. More than that he was now considered family. That was something that he hadn't had in a while. The only estrangement Richard had with his family had been due to death. Being here now in this beautiful dwelling, in a grand bed with his loving wife he felt contentment. As she placed a kiss on his chest he felt something else.

"I loved your letter" she murmured against his skin.

"What did you love about it?" He asked softly as his fingers threaded through her hair.

He could feel her smile against his chest, "The way it made me feel."

He didn't prod for more he merely continued raking his hand through her hair.

"It was stirring, arousing...I tingle just thinking about it." She whispered.

Before his lips reached hers he whispered one word, "good."


	28. Chapter 28

Boxing day came as did New Years, Richard was delighted to kiss his wife as the clock struck midnight and a New Year would begin. With the New Year and passing months Mary began to swell showing the world that she was carrying new life. She dutifully kept her appointments and things were progressing. Lord Grantham had even asked about her albumin level. Richard had explained that he checked Lady Mary's urine by boiling it and then letting it cool to check for the telltale clumps which signalled the presence of high protein. So far everything was fine. The family wished to head North and Dr. Clarkson was a little hesitant although no one picked up on except for Isobel. She gently reminded him that Inverness had fine hospitals. Isobel could hear him sigh and knew what he was thinking.

"I understand what you must feel, after Sybil-"

Her sentence was cut off as he held her hand tightly. After all this time the thought of that night still stung. For Richard it hung in the back of his memory much like the accident in which Isobel was rendered blind. Most of the time the memory was tucked away but occasionally it would demand attention and gave thought to where you were or what you were doing.

In the morning Isobel and Richard saw them off. Mary had told Isobel that she was adamant on going up North not for her but for Matthew. She was desperate for him to enjoy himself before the rigors of fatherhood set in. Isobel understood, having a child while a wonderful endeavor could turn your world upside down. She remembered the sleepless nights, the frustration, boredom all intermixed with the excitement that came with parenting. She thought of Richard, being a doctor was that way as well. He too had had his fair share of sleepless nights coupled with the boredom of waiting for something only to have it happen and be ten times worse than what you thought.

While she wouldn't admit to Richard she was nervous herself, this child would be her first grandchild. Mary seemed stable enough and she wasn't about to go horseback riding or engage in anything too dangerous. Nonetheless she thought of Sybil too. She did not want her own son to endure the heartbreak that Tom and she herself had gone through losing a spouse. As the train pulled away she thought about loss. With the death of her husband she became a widow. Tom was a widower. If she had died alongside Reginald, Matthew would have become an orphan. There was a no word for what a parent became if they lost a child. While the sun was warm she felt chilled inside and leaned in closer to Richard.

He knew his wife well enough to know something was bothering her, he also knew that she wouldn't tell him about it until she was ready so he merely held her to him as they walked away from the platform.

Matthew had telephoned when they had reached their destination and Isobel felt as though she could breathe properly again. Richard noticed that while she seemed more relaxed she was still preoccupied he had seen flyers for a fair in Thirsk.

"Would you like to go?" He asked one night.

She shrugged yet her lips curled up into a smile. He came behind her and wrapped his arms around her. "We can go, eat fair grub, listen to the tales from the sideshow and I can make a fool of myself trying to win you doll." He whispered richly in her ear.

She laughed, "I want to go, I think it's a grand idea."

The grand idea was also shared by the housestaff at Downton Abbey. It seemed all were going to descend upon Thirsk for the delights of the fair. When the day came Isobel found that she had all the enjoyment as she did as a child. Richard couldn't help but be swept away by her enthusiasm. Once there Richard lead her around the perimeter, describing things to her so she could form the mental layout in her mind. She could hear the carnival barkers trying to entice people for a game, the joyful Calliope belting out fairground tunes, the rush of air as the mechanical swings went round. The air was thick with the smells of food and spices. Through it all was the steady narration from Richard and she found it a delight for the senses. A bang got her attention and she turned towards it. "What game is that?"

Richard turned in her direction, "Balloon race."

The smile Isobel had let him know that she was interested, "Want to give these young lads and lasses a run for their money?"

She nodded frantically and he switched his grip to take her hand pulling her along. The game was simple. Two person team, one on a bicycle at one end would pedal with a balloon to the other team member who held a needle. First one to pop the balloon won a prize. Richard found himself amongst many from the Abbey. In the lane next to him was the blonde footman-Jimmy. Ivy was next to Isobel at the end of the lanes. Many of the younger men scoffed at Dr. Clarkson entering the race since youth was not on his side. Richard ignored the laughs and jibs and spun his pedal into position making sure he had the purchase he wanted. The start was given and the men were off. While Dr. Clarkson wasn't in the lead he certainly wasn't last or slow. What they had failed to remember was the Dr. Clarkson had clocked many miles on his bicycle for callouts. He had had to pedal on well paved roads and not so well paved roads. He was soon passing others. Another miscalculation they had was in their respective partners. The women on the other end holding the needle would have to stay still. However, a good many of them upon seeing what was basically madmen flying towards them on a bicycles panicked and either dropped their needle or fled. Isobel knew that Richard wouldn't barrel into her she stood steadfast and held the needle confidently. She could hear Ivy beside her start to panic with her whispered chant of "stop, stop, stop!" become progressively louder. There was more clamoring around her and she knew they must be close, Simultaneously she heard a bang and felt the rush of air over her hands as the balloon popped. They had won. While Isobel was free to pick her prize Richard smirked at the shocked faces of the young men from the Abbey. After many had picked their jaws up from off the ground they went and congratulated him. He shook each one of their hands and wished them good luck in future games. After returning the bicycle to the stall he found Isobel she had chosen a small fluffy toy cat. Her hands found his elbow before trailing up his arm to his shoulder and his face. She leaned in and kissed his cheek before whispering, "I don't think you're a fool and I love my doll...and you."

Richard could feel his cheeks redden and found he didn't care who saw. The men from the Abbey in an attempt to regain some pride entered the tug-of-war. Many tried to persuade him to join but Richard knew his limits and he politely declined. He didn't want to risk damaging his hands with the rope and he wanted the men to have their own victory without him. They stood to one side and listened to the chant of "Heave" from both sides. Richard's voice was commanding as he shouted, "Come on!". Isobel could feel him behind her, feel how his body was taut as he yelled encouragement. She felt that tension release from Richard and indeed the crowd with roar of cheers-the men from the Abbey had won.

Small tables had been set up around areas of the fairground for people to sit and eat if they wished. Isobel and Richard were able to find one such table. As they sat Isobels hands ran over the toy that Richard had won. Her fingers mapping out the face and body. As her fingers explored she told him of her childhood and how her father would take her and her brother to local fairs. Watching her face transform with the joyful recollection of memories was something that Richard adored.

As the afternoon wore on they talked more of childhood and teen years. Isobel laughed when Richard had told her how he and the other boys he had played with had snuck out of their houses for a midnight gathering. They were going to have a small bonfire on Gilberts land while Michael and Scott brought food while Richard would provide them with ale that his father had brewed.

"How did you get it?" she asked.

"Well my father had just bottled it we were going to move it to one of his outer work sheds. I had saved some jars and when I was transferring some bottles I dropped the jars and told him that I had accidentally broken a couple of ale bottles. That way when he looked the missing bottles would be accounted for." He explained.

Isobel was vibrating with anticipation, "What happened?"

Richard ran a hand through his hair, "Oh, Gilbert burnt himself with the fire. Michael got food poisoning from eating a raw sausage that he thought he had cooked and Scott got so drunk. Meanwhile I had to drag them back to their homes. I got one measly sausage that I split with Gilbert since he was moping and only one bottle of ale. We all kept it a secret but I think my father knew. All of them were out of school the next day except for me."

Isobel pealed with laughter. The laughter was cut short by a frantic voice, "Doctor, doctor! You must come quick."

Hearing the panic in the voice had Isobel rising from her seat as well. However, Richard was already chasing the young Jimmy who was bolting to wherever the catastrophe was. As he ran he saw Mrs. Hughes and called to her, "Mrs. Hughes."

The head-housekeeper heard her name and turned to see the doctor running, behind him quite a ways back was Isobel. She swallowed as she saw Isobel's head dart back and forth trying to ascertain the direction her husband had gone in. No other words were needed, she dashed over to Mrs. Clarkson to guide her.


	29. Chapter 29

Jimmy finally led Richard to a secluded walkway under a bridge. He saw a body curled up beside the curving sides of the tunnel. It was Thomas Barrow in a bastardized fetal position. He had cuts over his face and arms and bruises were already forming many of them angry, red and swelling. Richard looked over his shoulder to make sure no one else was going to pop out of the shadows. This was a ideal place for a robbery or a rape. He was glad that Isobel was not by his side, he shook his head to banish the thoughts. Jimmy was trying to push Thomas over.

"No, no, no" Richard commanded. The blonde didn't seem to take any notice and was gripping the forearm of Thomas trying to maneuver him. Richard grabbed the man's wrist and pressed on a certain point. Jimmy's hand fell open and he gasped in a slight pain. During his long medical career Richard had learned much about the human body. Among such nuggets of information were pressure points. These came in handy when dealing with patients or family members with the D's: Drunk, distraught, dementia. The points would quickly get the attention of the individual and wouldn't leave any lasting damage. Jimmy's hands went to his sides and stayed there so the doctor could assess his patient.

Both heard footsteps, more like galloping, coming towards them. Jimmy stood to deal with whatever was coming so the doctor could focus on his task. The Abbey staff began arriving, the tall footman. The cook's assistant, another maid, more and more staff. Richard could hear the soft scottish lilt of Mrs. Hughes and inwardly sighed. She would be bringing Isobel he could hear snippets of her conversation, "stick there don't trod on it"... "Doctor will sort it all".

With the arrival of more people they began crowding around the fallen footman. With the tunnels architecture the wall of bodies was blocking Richards light. He barked at them to get near the wall so he could see. "Isobel" he stated firmly. Slowly his wife was passed from Mrs. Hughes along the human chain before she came next to her husband. She squatted down beside him, "Can you brace his head please." he asked.

"I'm going to touch you" Isobel told Thomas and the man grunted in response. Isobel cupped the back of Thomas's head to keep it still and to cushion it against the harsh stone wall.

Richard had great respect for nurses and he loved Isobel's bedside manner. No matter where she was she always got permission from a patient before touching them. Clarkson pulled up the eyelid of Mr. Barrow to check his pupils before gauging the extent of the rest of his injuries. Richard called for a handkerchief and all the men seemed to dig into their pockets to retrieve one. The doctor took the nearest offered to him and folded it over and placed it on the cut on Barrow's forehead. He hoped the pressure would slow the bleeding, at first glance none of the cuts seemed deep enough to warrant stitching. Richards hands came to Barrow's shirt and he quickly gave it a yank to release the buttons. He could see from the rise and fall of the wounded man's chest that his breathing was labored. Richard placed his hands on the sides of Thomas's chest and slid them down. Beneath his palms he could feel the grinding shift as the bones slid against one another-broken rib.

Richard's disgruntled sigh let Isobel know what he had found. While Thomas Barrow wasn't his most favorite person in the world no one deserved this beating. Dr. Clarkson thought back on his encounters with this man. He had heard the whispers around the village that he preferred the company of men and frankly he didn't have the time or the patience to care what did bother him was his blinding ambition. The air of invincibility he had seemed to carry before the war as if nothing could touch him. When he had been injured it had been reduced slightly but it was still there. While it was noble for people to strive to be something more to work and yearn towards a better life with Barrow it was all about shortcuts. The ambition to somehow go from footman to butler. When that didn't work he thought a stint in the Army would do it. Richard had scoffed when Barrow had chosen the medical core somehow thinking it would keep him out of danger. Then his brief dalliance with the black market.

His father had once told him, "Ambition is a vicious mistress."

Thinking back to the War Richard stripped off the ever present glove to check his wounded hand for anything new. Looking at both of his hands he noticed only defensive wounds, "Didn't fight back?" he asked softly.

"Didn't see the point, more of them than of me." Thomas rasped.

Beside him Richard could feel the anger rising in Isobel, "What's the chance of apprehending these men?"

No one around her could seem to answer her question.

"Anything broken doctor?" A maid asked.

Richard used his bicep to swipe at his forehead, "We need to get him to the hospital to strap his ribs then he should go to bed."

"I'll get the wagonette" Branson informed. It was an unspoken command that all would be going back to Downton. Jimmy and the doctor helped Barrow to stand while Mrs. Hughes came beside Isobel to help her out of the tunnel. Richard and Isobel got Thomas loaded into the wagonette. Instead of a bench seat they had him sit on floorboards the while he rested against the other footmen. With his rib injury he wouldn't be able to lay flat and the incline the other men provided made breathing easier.

Isobel and Richard got to the hospital first. He rattled off a list of what he needed and Isobel went to fetch the items. Not long after the wagonette appeared, Thomas was ushered into the hospital and the doctor began treatment. The man's wounds were washed and dressed before his chest was strapped with bandages. A small dose of morphine was given and Thomas found he could actually breathe a tad more deeply. The strips around his ribs were tight but kept the bones together so they would knit back together. When it was done Barrow was loaded back into the wagonette to be taken back to the Abbey.

Richard and Isobel then began clearing up the debris left over from treatment. Isobel put back the iodine and unused morphine vials while Richard gathered the scissors and other instruments. Nora took the syringe away to the autoclave. They both washed their hands before going to the office. Richard had to write a report of what happened. Isobel sat on the small cot in the corner listening to the scratching of his fountain pen. She could picture him in her mind's eye, sitting behind the desk, head bowed over the paper the pen working against the paper. Her palm was laying flat on the blanket and she began moving it back and forth feeling the friction warm her skin.

Sitting here on this bed she let her mind wander. She would be lying if she said she hadn't had thought of a tryst here in this office. She could still hear the scratching of the pen so she let her mind wander.

_She was on her back on the small cot while Richard loomed over her. Kisses were traded as he gently pressed himself against her. Her hands skimmed the warm skin of his back as he nuzzled her throat._

Richard had finished his report and looked up to see his wife sitting on the small cot. She appeared to be deep in thought from the flush on her cheeks he knew which kind of thoughts. He quietly put down his pen and slowly walked toward her. He knew she hadn't heard his approach for her hand was still moving over the blanket. Reaching out his hand hand cupped her cheek and she keened softly.

Whatever hesitations he might have had disappeared with the sound she just uttered. He pulled her to her feet and kissed her. His foot kicked out to close the door. The hospital was empty save for Nora and she was in the back with the autoclave and knew when the door was closed to the office not to go in. He teased Isobel's lips apart with his tongue before meeting hers and she made that sound again. Her low keen seemed to shoot straight to his groin. Isobel's hands were pushing at his jacket and it fell to the floor. Next the buttons of his waistcoat were freed and another piece of clothing fell. It was a strange sensation to be nude in the middle of his office surrounded by large wall hangings depicting portions of human anatomy.

Isobel was awash with sensation. The new environment, the fact that her fantasy was swiftly becoming real all had her nerves singing sweetly. Richard's chest bumped hers in a body block to move her backward. She went wherever he led her and soon the backs of her knees touched the cot. Richard's left hand grabbed a fistful of the blanket and flung it aside revealing the crisp white linen beneath. Isobel was then situated herself on the cot. It was too small for the two of them, the mattress was lumpy and the sheets were a tad scratchy. However, at this moment this bed was more grand than the one they had shared in the Abbey for Christmas. Richards weight settled over her and she hooked a leg over his waist.

Eager, she was so eager and willing. The knowledge of this had Richard wanting to shout but he knew to restrain himself. Instead he jammed his mouth over hers, his lips and tongue matching the rhythm of his hips. Isobel's hands were above her head and he grabbed one. His thumb began caressing a certain spot on the inside her wrist. He didn't just know the pressure points to get someone to release a grip or stop what they were doing he also knew pressure points to relieve pain and heighten pleasure. As he rubbed the bottom of her palm under her little finger she keened again.

Many a night he had spent in this bed alone, trying to sleep or being passed out from sheer exhaustion. Once again he was here in this bed but it was with this gorgeous creature wrapped around him. He increased the pressure on her wrist and then swallowed her cries as she stiffened beneath him her hips lifting his off the cot. Her arms pulled him close as he emitted a grunt and was still.

* * *

A/N: Merry/Happy Christmas to you all


	30. Chapter 30

Richard knew he could not indulge in the post coital nap that was threatening to overwhelm him. He kissed Isobel somewhat chastely before pushing himself up on his arms. He managed to swing himself over her and pad towards his fallen clothes. Isobel could hear him dressing and knew that she should do the same. She stretched out in the cot and sighed before rising. Her feet shuffled across the floor until her feet came into contact with her dress. She picked it up only for the fabric to be taken from her as Richard oriented it for her. It was quickly slipped over her head. A few more items were found and they were presentable. Richard exhaled shakily as the enormity of what they had just done hit him. He felt exhilaration and apprehension...he felt young.

Isobel could glean his thoughts and moved towards him, "Thank you for that."

He scoffed for he felt that he should be giving her thanks. He pulled her to him and kissed her cheek. Richard opened the door to his office and also opened a small window to encourage the smell of sex to not linger. Sitting at his desk he made a conscious effort to straighten his files. Isobel busied herself with remaking the bed. It didn't take for a breeze to freshen the office and for both Richard and Isobel to not feel controlled by lust. As they emerged from the office Richard saw Isobel's fluffy cat toy by the medicine cabinet. He quickly retrieved it for pressing it into her hands.

"Thank you again, I can't believe I almost forgot this." She said as her fingers traced the head.

Richard felt a swell of pride, while he wasn't youthful or in the prime of his life like some of the young lads in the village he felt gratification in being Isobel's man. Winning the toy had been one thing, taking her in his office had been quite another entirely. With no more patients to see and with the afternoon slowly blending into evening it was time for them to depart for home.

Inside of the cottage Richard went to the kitchen to make tea. They had snacked at the fair and weren't that hungry. Isobel could hear the telltale filling of the kettle and the heavy clink of mugs. She loved it when they drank out of mugs instead of the fine china cups in the evening. The mugs were large and it took both of her hands to hold it. They were able to hold more liquid and gave a sense of more comfort. Generally in the evenings they would drink from the mugs, either tea or occasionally hot chocolate which had been a gift from Lord and Lady Grantham at Christmas. Tonight Richard had added a portion of whisky to the tea. The afternoon had been an interesting one. There was the joy at the fair with the winning of the games and the tales of youth, the fear that came with the call for help, the concentration that came with treating a patient and the euphoria of making love in a public place. The whisky allowed them to coalesce all the feelings into something manageable. They sat together on the sofa, the dark blue Arran throw had been moved to a chest during the warmer months, Richard blew into his mug to cool the contents. Isobel shifted against him using his chest instead of the back of the sofa to find comfort and she sighed contentedly. Richard was feeling brave, "So was today everything you expected?"

Isobel quickly ducked her head into her cup suddenly shy. Richard couldn't help but poke at her, "So any other place you need to cross off of your list?" She nudged him in the ribs with her elbow but he continued, "We've made love here, on the floor, at the Abbey now at the hospital...where else did you have in mind?"

This time when she employed her elbow it resulted in him emitting a grunt, "Steady on woman."

He pulled her against him holding his mug with one hand while he used his other to run down her shoulder and arm in an attempt to soothe her. "I mean to tease you a little. You amaze me Isobel the things you _want_ to do" He scoffed, "the things you _let_ me do!"

She knew his words were true and she snuggled against him. "Actually what we just did was a frequent fantasy if you must know. Early on in the war I imagined us in your office. And before you ask it was more abstract in my mind. Just you and me and suddenly we were making love in a corner."

Richard held her closer, he knew it took a great deal of courage for her talk of such things. He felt her stiffen and he felt a tinge of panic. She could feel the change in him and drew breath to explain, "When I was in France, treating the wounded, when I had a moment to myself when we were actually allowed a break my mind would wander to you and that fantasy. I hope you don't mind that I used you in that way?"

Richard dropped a kiss into her hair, "Not at all. I'm actually gratified that I could give you some pleasure during a most trying time. If you must know I thought about you too during the war."

Isobel was intrigued, "Really? Will you tell me?"

He could deny her nothing, "Do you remember when Carson had that attack of stress at dinner? The one you telephoned me about?"

Isobel's mind frantically recalled the scene.

_Dinner at the Abbey, the footmen were at the front. Everyone seemed to be scrambling and the new recruit to the Abbey staff was a nervous wreck. Carson was trying to maintain the highest standards no doubt skipping meals and sleep to obtain his idea of perfection. He had barked at the footman, Lange if she remembered his name correctly. Carson had made a sound consisting of consonants, almost a gagging gasp. Sybil and herself had jumped into help pushing Carson into a chair and began taking his pulse while Lord Grantham and Matthew popped open his collar and undid the buttons on his shirt. _

"I remember." She said confidently.

"Well that night provided me with a spark to keep me warm at night."

She drew in a breath in anticipation she was longing to know what he had imagined. "Tell me, please" she whispered.

Richard's hand was tracing nonsense patterns on her forearm, "Well it had to do with the telephone, I remember when it rang in the hospital. The last person I had expected to be on the other end was you. Nonetheless, your voice was on the telephone explaining in detail what had happened and I was grateful in that moment that you had provided me with information. When Edith came and collected me I was already well armed so to speak. After that night when the telephone would ring I would imagine for a split second it would be you. Telling me things."

"What type of things?" She asked not recognizing her own voice

Richard hastily took a sip of his fortified tea, "That you needed me, that you wanted me...that you loved me."

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A/N: Meant to be posted earlier but for some reason the site wouldn't let me log in.


	31. Chapter 31

Mary Crawley was enjoying Scotland. The trip North had been uneventful and she couldn't resist dancing. That night as she cuddled next to Matthew in the large bed the babe inside of her kicked fiercely demanding her attention. In the morning she felt an unease that could only be soothed by thoughts of home. She called for Anna and they began packing her belongings. Everyone was told not to worry that she just wanted to rest in her own bed. She firmly told Matthew to stay since it would only be a few days more until all would be returning. No one was going to begrudge her that. On the train the babe inside of her settled perhaps knowing that home was nearing. Mary then began to think she was a bit of a fool. As she exited the train car she felt something go *pop* and then felt wetness on her thighs. Thoughts raced through her mind and she took a deep breath to calm herself. Ever watchful Anna noticed and waved for the chauffeur to come over.

"I don't want to alarm anyone but I need to go to the hospital."

"Certainly" The chauffeur said as he made a motion to the porter. The cases would be put in storage until someone could fetch them later. Anna had already sprinted towards the telephone. Dr. Clarkson and Isobel were waiting for them. Just seeing the doctor in his white coat had Mary feeling more in control. Instead of the main ward there was smaller ward with a few beds. This had been the maternity area for sometime. Instead of the darkness of wood walls the room was colored in a light cream and had high windows to let in the light. Mary's clothes were taken from her and she was given a hospital shift to wear. Isobel combed out her hair before plaiting it for her, telling her it was best for it to be out of the way. She also told her daughter-in-law that Matthew was on his way no doubt already on the train. Nora was gathering equipment while Dr. Clarkson was boiling a sample of Mary's urine. Upon cooling there were no clumps, her albumin levels were normal. He reached for his pen in the breast pocket of his coat and quickly recorded the results.

Mary was trying to breathe as the books had instructed, how her mother had said worked. However, it didn't seem to be helping and a thought was eating at her. "Isobel, pushing...how does that work? How will I know?"

Isobel could hear the fear behind Mary's voice and knew all too well what she was feeling. She also knew what she was asking she stretched out her arm to touch Mary's shoulder before leaning in. She then whispered one word. Mary's head shot up, "What?"

"That's how you push" Isobel said calmly before turning in the direction of the hallway. She heard the sound of Richard's boots on the floor. It was time.

Nora and Isobel donned gowns while they pushed back and held Mary's legs. Clarkson took up his position one hand on Mary's stomach. As it tightened beneath his hand he told her to push. Going on Isobel's one word Mary pushed.

"Excellent, good movement." Dr. Clarkson commended "Again"

The baby began to crown and Dr. Clarkson's hands began to guide the head and neck. Mary yelped in pain and the baby was free. Isobel was already waiting with a fresh towel. "It's a boy." Dr. Clarkson announced as he quickly placed the new life into Isobel's waiting arms while he clamped and cut the umbilical cord. The placenta was delivered and Dr. Clarkson called for ergotamine which Nora had already drew up and he quickly injected into Mary's thigh. Nora then guided Isobel and the baby to a nearby table. While the new Crawley was being cleaned up Clarkson took Mary's vitals. Her blood pressure was stable and her bleeding had slowed. He stood back and watched as the new Mother was handed her son. Over his career he had delivered many children. Nonetheless, the excitement with each delivery was never diminished. As Mary settled in with her son he and Nora began cleaning up the equipment. Isobel had excused herself as well to wash up. After everything was tidied up Richard and Isobel sat near the other end of the ward. Within earshot of Mary if she needed anything but far enough away so she could have some privacy. Isobel asked if she could use the telephone to inform the Abbey. Richard stammered that of course she could. The operator quickly connected the Hospital and Abbey. Carson's voice greeted her and she relayed the news. As Isobel replaced the handset of the telephone Richard came up behind her and she leaned against him.

Richard could hear footsteps in the main ward and had an inkling of who it was. He was not disappointed when he craned his head and saw Matthew closing the distance quickly. Richard gave him a reassuring smile at which Matthew deflated a bit no doubt some anxieties were alleviated.

"Matthew is here." Richard announced and Isobel smiled in the knowledge that the new family would at last be together. "Mother?"

"Yes, what is it?" Isobel asked as turned in the direction of her son.

"Can you go to the Abbey, give us some time?"

She knew what he was asking for and it wasn't the first time she had played interference with Lord and Lady Grantham. She gave her son a warm smile before going in search of her handbag.

At the Abbey the air was thick with excitement. As Isobel crossed over the threshold and padded along the plush carpet she could feel the anticipation. At last she came to Lord Grantham, she told him about the delivery and gave details when he asked. She could practically hear Cora beam with pride at the fact that he was not shying away from medical talk. She told them to wait so the hospital could be set right before being swarmed upon. It was a mix of truth and lies. There was always something to be done at the hospital this way Mary and Matthew could spend precious time with their new baby. Soon they piled into cars. The hospital was not far. Lord Grantham noticed a crowd outside of the hospital and was confused, surely news of his grandson hadn't reached the village this quickly. He then regarded the circle of me outside the entrance. Their body language exuded tension and they smoked furiously, something was wrong. Another sign of something being untowards was that the front entrance was wide open. Isobel was literally blind to this and led Cora and Robert back to the maternity area. Cora was absorbed with the baby, Robert permitted himself a quick look before going through the ward. He followed his instincts and went down a hallway, a door was ajar and he could hear sounds. Pushing on it he saw a what appeared to be a man on a bed. Over the man's face was a mesh mask and a nurse was periodically instilling drops on the mask. There was blood on the floor and Robert watched transfixed as Dr. Clarkson produced what looked like a saw. Oh, so very fast the blade rose and Robert watched as Clarkson sawed through a badly mangled arm. He could hear the measured breathing of the doctor as the blade moved in a quick yet steady rhythm. The arm was then freed and Clarkson began the work of clamping areas.

"Lunar caustic." Clarkson demanded as he sat in a stool and began threading what looked like a needle. Robert watched as slowly the torn tissue became molded into a stump, periodically Dr. Clarkson would use one of the sticks he had called for on the skin, wiping away blood as he went. Eventually the mask was then removed and Robert could see that the patient was Matthew. He felt bile rise in his throat and swallowed reflexively, willing his stomach not to recoil. Robert retreated to find Isobel nearing him. He quickly led her away, asking her to show him the baby. Robert knew that Isobel could not find Matthew like this not yet. Over the years of being an Earl he had perfected his polite mask. He summoned the image of a dinner with other Lords and put on a smile. If he believed it perhaps Isobel would too.

"Cora, doesn't the baby look like Matthew?" He asked in a light tone.

Isobel perked up, "Oh how so?"

Cora and Mary began pointing out similarities between Matthew and Mary and Isobel listened intently. With the ether mask removed it wouldn't be long before Matthew would rouse. Clarkson expertly filled a syringe with morphine and gave Matthew a dose. Nora used a towel to pick up what was left of Matthew's arm. The damage was too extensive unlike Anthony Strallan who had an useless arm that was intact Matthew's arm would never be pretty again and the shattering of bone and tearing of muscle made salvaging it impossible. The blood loss was considerable and amputation was the only course to save the Matthew.

Robert slowly moved away from the group surrounding Mary, minutes passed and then he saw Dr. Clarkson move toward his office. Robert noted that the man walked with a sure gait, when he himself had witnessed the cutting of the arm his own legs had turned rubbery. Yet here Clarkson was striding determinedly to his office. If he wasn't covered in blood no one would have suspected he had just performed surgery.

When tires had crunched into the gravel Richard had thought that Lord and Lady Grantham had gone mad with their arrival and was going to give them a talking to about driving like a maniac with Isobel among them. However, when he looked out the window and saw the flatbed lorry he rushed outside. On the back was Matthew: unconscious, broken and bleeding. He had quickly been deposited on a bed and he and Nora some other nurses had gotten to work.

Robert followed as ways behind and found Clarkson stripping off his waistcoat and shirt leaving him in his trousers and vest. He washed up in the basin before retrieving a fresh shirt from the corner

Richard heard Robert come in but didn't acknowledge him.

"Will he live?"

Richard sighed, "Yes, all things considered he was damned lucky. From what those lads tell me the car rolled and landed on his arm. The area where they came to a stop was near a ditch, a few more inches and he might have drowned."

Clarkson pushed his arms into his shirt, "Lord Grantham" he began and the Earl shook his head. "Please, today of all days call me Robert."

Richard ran a hand through his hair, "Robert, if you would be as kind as to inform the family that visiting time is over. Lady Mary is in need of rest, you and Lady Cora may stay."

Robert chewed on his lip, "Are you going to tell Isobel?"

"Yes, and then we will all tell Lady Mary."

Robert swallowed, he had had to deliver bad news during the war. He remembered telling Mrs. Patmore about the death of her nephew. He shuddered at the thought and quickly reminded himself that he probably wouldn't have to do that task ever again. When he looked back up at Dr. Clarkson he felt shame for his thoughts.

Lord Grantham did a good job of corralling everyone back to the car save himself and his wife. Richard grasped Isobel's elbow and guided her from the maternity ward. "Isobel, I have to tell you something."

His tone of voice rivaled an icy wind. "What is it?"

"Matthew was brought in while you were fetching everyone from the Abbey."

Isobel's head wrinkled in confusion, yes Matthew had been here to see the baby. He gripped her elbow firmly hoping it would ground her, allow her to focus. She replayed his words in her head and gasped, "He's a patient now."

Even though she couldn't see he nodded in agreement, "Motor vehicle accident, he's in the back. Would you like to see him?"

Not trusting her voice she nodded. Richard lead her back to the area where Matthew was being kept. Nora had since taken away the remains of the arm and the other nurses had changed the bedding. There were no traces of blood anywhere. She nodded towards Dr. Clarkson and Isobel as they entered. Richard guided his wife's hand towards Matthew's shoulder, "I had to amputate the right arm above the elbow."

Isobel could feel the telltale wrappings of bandages and knew Richard was telling the truth. Her hand then wandered to her son's face. She could feel the warmth of his cheek beneath her palm and she gave a small smile before taking her palm away and returning it to his cheek in a firm slap.

Quickly Richard's hand encircled her wrist pulling her to him bodily and holding her. Nora had leapt up from her position at the head of the bed to make sure Matthew's head didn't loll to the side.

Isobel began to sob and Richard did the one thing he could think of he dropped kisses onto her face, "*kiss* He's *kiss* not *kiss* dead *kiss* Isobel...Say it!"

"He's not dead." she whispered back.


	32. Chapter 32

Isobel wept silently and Richard gathered her into his arms. At first his touch seemed to enrage her, she tried to pull away but he instinctively tightened his grip. Her hands curled into fists and she beat them against his chest. With their close proximity she couldn't do much damage to him and he would willingly take anything she wished to dish out. The feelings that were coursing through her were all demanding attention. The most prominent emotion was rage, at the seemingly unfairness of the situation. Matthew had just had literally just become a father to be maimed.

She was beginning to tire and he whispered, "Move with me." Surprisingly she complied and they moved out of the room. They made it to his office where he deposited her in his desk chair. He filled a glass with water before dumping the contents of a sleeping powder into it. "Drink this" he commanded. As she raised the glass to her lips he suddenly pushed up on her elbow. The liquid rushed towards her mouth and reflexively she swallowed it before comprehending that Richard was sedating her. The momentary flash of realization broke through her grief and she spluttered. "Richard!" She gasped.

Gripping the arms of the chair she was determined to rise. However, when she did she was overcome by dizziness. A strong hand on her shoulder pushed down and she regained her position in the chair. Her eyelids were growing heavy, "Off to sleep" he spoke quietly.

She didn't want to obey, she wanted to stay awake she needed to stay awake. Richard knew that if he didn't sedate her she would not leave Matthew's side and at the moment there was nothing to be done but let him sleep and manage his pain before he could begin to cope with his injury. Isobel moaned softly and her head rolled forward. Pulling back on the chair Richard moved it and Isobel away from the desk. He left her side to pull down the covers on the overnight cot. Returning to Isobel's side he picked her up before placing her in the cot as he pulled up the covers he caught the scent they had made a day earlier. Was it only yesterday that they had made love after the fair? How could so much happiness be destroyed so quickly?

With his wife tucked away he went to go inform Mary. He asked another nurse to provide a wheelchair. Mary was confused when she saw it, "Am I being discharged already?"

Over years of practice Dr. Clarkson had perfected his impassive mask, "No, my Lady but there has been an incident."

Mary swallowed and Dr. Clarkson's words, she looked to her mother before handing over her son for her to hold. Dr. Clarkson and her father helped her into the wheelchair and she was wheeled out of the maternity ward into the main one. Mary watched as the Doctor's hand reached for the knob before stilling. "I need you to remember that no matter what you see, no matter how bad it looks you must know that he will live...he will recover."

The door was opened and she was pushed inside. At first Mary didn't understand at first glance Matthew just appeared to be sleeping. There were some scrapes on his face but his coloring was good. She reached out and held his hand. She then looked closely the way the blanket was draped seemed odd. Then she saw it, Matthew's right arm was not so much gone as shortened. With all the bandages it looked as if a sock stuffed full cotton wool had been attached to his shoulder.

"When?" Mary asked.

"Not long after he left there was an accident and he was brought in. He had been thrown from his car before the car rolled and landed on his arm. The damage was too great and I couldn't save it...I tried."

Mary heard the slight desperation in Clarkson's voice and felt a wave of compassion for the doctor. She turned to look at him her own eyes glassy as his were. "I know you did, he's alive. You saved him."

Turning back to her husband she asked, "What happens now?"

"You go back to bed so you can rest. I'll be here to monitor you both. In the morning we'll start tapering off his morphine and we'll go from there." He placed his hands on the back of her shoulders, "Do you want something to help you sleep?"

She shook her head, "No, I don't want it and all things considered I don't think I need it."

With that she was wheeled back to her bed, Cora placed her grandson in the bassinet next to Mary's bed.

Robert and Cora were insistent on staying both foreswore that they would stay out of Dr. Clarkson's way. Cora stayed in the maternity area with Mary, Clarkson had told her that if she wished she could sleep in one of the unoccupied maternity beds. Robert knew he would not sleep and he shadowed Dr. Clarkson. Richard knew that Robert was following him around from a polite distance and he didn't mind. He was used to the watchful eyes of parents as he treated children he even endured the stare of the Dowager countess on more than one occasion. He checked Matthew's blood pressure before checking Mary's. He also garnered a quick look at Isobel finding she was sleeping soundly. Nora had made tea before leaving and Robert and Richard shared a cup together. The warm offering seemed to loosen Robert's tongue and he spoke, damn near rambled and Richard listened knowing the man needed to voice his thoughts. "My God, I thought we were done with this."

"Done with what?" Richard asked after swallowing some tea.

"Having a tragedy coincide with a birth. The loss of Sybil after she had her daughter and now Matthew's arm after the birth of his son. It might sound cruel but at this moment I'm glad Edith isn't married." Grantham took another sip before asking, "How is Isobel taking it?"

Richard expelled a sharp breath through his nose, "I sedated her."

Grantham exhaled, "I had no idea."

Richard scoffed and cocked his head to the side, "Neither did she, I'm sure she'll have quite a bone to pick with me."

At this Robert raised his eyebrows and Richard rolled his eyes. It was going to be a long night.

Lord Grantham forced himself to stay awake, he kept himself on his feet and moved between Mary and Matthew. He watched as Dr. Clarkson checked their vitals. Around one in the morning two men were brought in for cuts to their hands and faces. Apparently the result of a brawl at the Grantham Arms. As Dr. Clarkson stitched them up they were quiet it might have had something to do with Lord Grantham standing in the corner watching the whole thing.

It seemed odd to Robert, while the hospital and it's staff worked like a well-made clock it was not on any sort of regulated time. Patients seemed to surge in fits and starts. There might be some forewarning with a telephone call but it was rare. A pounding at the door was all the warning that sometimes came that along with a shout of, "Doctor."

Near four in the morning Mary asked for the Doctor.

"Are you in pain Lady Mary?" Clarkson asked as he neared her bedside.

"No, it's not that. I seem to be having trouble" she waved her hand below her waist in an attempt to explain herself.

Dr. Clarkson smiled knowingly, "Are you having trouble urinating?"

The look of relief of not having to explain herself was almost comical. "I can help with that."

Cora helped erect some screens around Mary's bed while Dr. Clarkson called for a nurse to bring him a catheter. While Lord Grantham was a bit more familiar with the human body he had reached his limit and waited outside while the Doctor worked. A nurse exited the screen carrying a jar, next the screens were moved and Mary appeared looking more relieved than she had before the procedure.

After Mary had been seen to time seemed to stretch on and on, either seeming to stand still or cruelly go backwards. Snatching the clipboard from the bottom of the bed Clarkson made some notes before rolling his head on his shoulders. Robert had had his fair share of sleepless nights but he was certain he wouldn't draw level with the amount the Doctor had had. The night nurse approached him and he gave her some orders before telling her, "Wake me in two hours...I mean it."

With his overnight cot occupied by his wife, Richard stretched out on one of the ward beds. He slung an arm over his eyes and fell asleep.

What seemed like moments later he woke to whispers, he scrubbed a hand over his face and murmured, "What is it?"

"Go back to sleep." A voice told him.

His brain quickly deduced it was Lady Cora due to her accent. While he did want to sleep he knew he should be getting up and swung his legs over before sitting up. He rolled his head and shoulders groaning when they creaked. Shift change would be happening soon and Nora soon appeared with fresh cups of tea.

Lord and Lady Grantham had arranged for food to be delivered. That's what they had been whispering about when Dr. Clarkson had awoken. Assessing the time he went to his office. Isobel was still asleep but it was not the deep sleep induced by the powder. It had had its time to run its course. Soon she would be waking.

Full Circle, things had come. The first time she was in this bed she was waiting for Matthew to come back from the front. Now she would be waking in this bed to another morning where he was once again injured. The rustle of fabric caught his attention, Isobel and rolled over. She too blearily rubbed her face with her hand. Sleeping powders had the nasty side effect of grogginess upon waking. He also suspected her to be in a foul mood. He wasn't disappointed. The one good thing about her being angry at him was that she wasn't worrying over Matthew.

He knew her anger with him would increase when he told her that she would not be allowed to see Matthew until he awoke. She was livid and screamed at him that Matthew was her child. He had simply stated back that he had given the same order to Mary. Upon hearing this she softened somewhat.

Richard splayed his hands on his table, "I need to assess him and make sure his pain is manageable. I can't do that with you and Mary both there. Also I won't allow one without the other. Do you understand?"

She did but she refused to be calm, she held onto her anger like a child that clutches a favorite blanket. She didn't want to be without its confining comfort. She merely turned from him and walked out of the office. His next task was not going to be a pleasant one. Matthew would be waking from his morphine induced slumber. He gathered his nurses and went into the room. From the chart he noted that Matthew's blood pressure was rising, showing that the would indeed be waking. When it came it was brutal, the blue eyes opened showing confusion before widening in pain and shock. Matthew's upper body rose from the bed and Clarkson used his own arms to push him back down mindful not to push on the neck or any bandaged area. Nurses quickly bracketed him taking position while he injected Matthew with a dose of morphine.

"Matthew, Matthew?"

The young man was not responding to his name.

"Mr. Crawley!" Clarkson barked and the blonde's head snapped up. With the lads attention he spoke more gently, "What do you remember?"

Blue eyes darted back and forth in recollection,"Mary had the baby...the baby!"

Clarkson squeezed Matthew's shoulder, "They're fine, they're fine. In the ward, they are fine and healthy. You had a motor vehicle accident when you left the hospital, do you remember?"

"No." Came the whisper.

"Alright that's fine, you don't need to remember. Now I need you to listen." He paused making sure he had Matthew's full attention. "You were hurt badly in the crash, your arm was trapped beneath the car. I'm sorry I couldn't save it."

The color drained from Matthew's face as he for the first time seemed to take stock of his body. His head turned to look at the left side of his body before his eyes closed and he turned his head to the right. Clarkson could hear the breath he expelled, "I can see that it's not there but I can still feel it. How can I feel it?"

Matthew began to shake as he sobbed quietly, "Why do I feel it?"

Dr. Clarkson gave a glance to Nora who quickly cleared the room of nurses leaving Doctor and patient. Richard took his stepsons hand in his own and gripped it tightly as Matthew wept over the loss of his arm.


	33. Chapter 33

Mary was of two minds, she wanted to stay at the hospital to be near Matthew yet she also longed to at the Abbey to transition into her new role as Mother in her home. Dr. Clarkson had her discharge date set for the middle of the week. She had been strolling the grounds with her son in her arms when she came back inside and heard raised voices. An exasperated Doctor Clarkson appeared in the ward.

"Please tell me what's the matter." Mary asked. After the death of Sybil, Mary had vowed to help Dr. Clarkson in whatever way she could to try and make up for what she felt as a betrayal for not speaking up against Tapsell and her Father sooner in his defense.

Richard shook his head, "I'm not allowed to breach patient confidentiality."

Mary pondered for a moment, "Have you been outside today Doctor?"

"No, I haven't" He said in all honesty.

She went out the way she had come in and he followed behind her. "Do you know sometimes I talk to myself, now that I have him I don't feel as silly about it. Now I can say I'm having a conversation."

He knew damn well what she was saying but still he wanted to phrase it properly, "Imagine a hospital where two family members are. One's a patient one's a...staff member. They love one another but it seems whenever they are together now they bicker."

Nodding solemnly Mary added, "And you're in the middle."

"That I am." He said and Mary could hear how emotion made his accent thick.

Mary knew exactly was the problem was. Dr. Richard Clarkson was a go-between. At this moment his wife and stepson were arguing since Isobel couldn't separate her nursing side from her Mothering side. Mary had heard the conversations, Isobel would ask how he was and the conversation would then become focused on his recovery. Matthew didn't want to speak of it but couldn't voice it to his Mother. Dr. Clarkson had had to separate them the other day for Matthew had become quite upset, Isobel too for that matter. Now as a physician Clarkson had to protect his patient but as a husband he needed to protect his wife. How could he get both of them to understand without fingers being pointed at him? Mary pulled up short when she suddenly realized how deep everything went.

Dr. Clarkson was the intermediary between everyone, patients and granny the incident with John Drake sprang to mind. He had to settle the dispute between then Corporal Barrow and Mrs. Huges not to mention between Mama and Papa, and now Matthew and Isobel. He was in a unique position to treat Lords as well as servants. Keeping all confidences and trying to save lives at the sametime. Mary reached out and touched his white coat covered forearm, "Thank you for the walk."

Being in the fresh air helped his mood. He found himself walking the old circuit that he and Isobel had made during her first days here after her blindness. Since Matthew's injury they had not been intimate, in fact they hadn't even shared the same bed even for sleep. Richard had not forced the issue nevertheless, he missed his wife.

Mary found Isobel and asked her to mind the baby which she happily did. While she may not be able to see she knew happy gurglings and the other sounds associated with a baby. Also she could always call for help.

As she pushed on the door she heard Matthew, "Mother, I really don't want to have the same argument."

"Well good thing it's me." Mary said cheerfully.

"Oh Mary, my darling." He reached out with his left and for her and she sat down on the edge of his bed. He leaned in and kissed her, "I want to come home with you."

"Perhaps if you were a little nicer Dr. Clarkson would let you." Mary said lightly.

Instantly Matthew released the grip on her hand, "Oh you're on Mother's side."

"No, I'm not." Mary told him.

Matthew beamed at her and returned the pressure of his grip, "Knew you were on mine."

Inhaling deeply she looked him in the eye, "No, I'm not."

The frustration was evident, "What?"

Mary looked at her husband intently making sure he was listening to what she had to say, "Did you ever think of Dr. Clarkson? He is mired so deep in this. I heard the shouting match the other day between you and your mother and he had the patience to wade in here and break it up. Now here is a man who is trying to do right by _everyone_ and he is currently despised by his wife and stepson."

Matthew sighed, "Mary, I don't despise him."

Mary shrugged, "The way you are acting has me wondering. I know that when we are hurt or frightened we lash out especially at the people we love because it's safe. Nonetheless, when you and your Mother go after one another it is him who is caught in the middle trying to do right by both of you. I don't want you kotowing to anyone but perhaps there can be a little...restraint?"

Matthew stared at her so she continued, "Remember her upbringing. Her father and brother both doctors, both of her husbands are doctors and she's a nurse. Of course topic of conversation is going to steer that way. It doesn't mean she's trying to takeover your recovery. And Doctor Clarkson maybe your Mother's husband but he's your doctor first."

Matthew hung his head, "I just don't like talking about it, let alone thinking about. If I hadn't been in that car."

Mary gripped his hand, "Well if we are going to play that game then all this is my fault for insisting on going up North."

"No, no, no my darling. No." Matthew spoke softly.

Mary knew that none of it was her fault yet she felt as though it was. Tears flowed down her cheeks and she didn't try to stop them. Matthew slung his good arm around her pulling her to him. He was beginning to understand that this just wasn't about _him_. Yes while it was his arm that had been amputated all had lost.

Isobel had been holding her grandson when he began to fuss. She tried bouncing him as she had bounced Matthew all those years ago. While it worked somewhat the baby seemed to be restless. Isobel went in search of Mary and stopped when she heard her voice.

_Did you ever think of Dr. Clarkson? He is mired deep in this. I heard the shouting match the other day between you and your mother and he had the patience to wade in here and break it up. Now here is a man who is trying to do right by everyone and he is currently despised by his wife and stepson._

Isobel moved away from the door and went back to her former seat. Her grandson was still fussing and her mind was spinning. "here let me" Dr. Clarkson said as he took the baby. He rearranged the babe onto his shoulder and he burped before becoming content in his arms.

He laughed before stroking his small head, "Good lad. Tummy feel better?"

With her grandson now content Clarkson handed the baby back to her before heading towards his office. Isobel was still considering Mary's words. Was she angry? Yes, she was but not at Richard at the situation. However, her response to Richard had not been from a loving place. When he had been at the cottage she had stayed at the hospital. They hadn't eaten together in sometime either. On some basic level she wanted everyone to be as miserable as she. Burning shame stung her cheeks. She heard a door open and footsteps move towards her. The pattern of feet and direction let her know it was Mary. She quickly reclaimed her son and was about to give Isobel a similar lecture when she took in her Mother-in-law's appearance. The woman looked small and while her stature was small her personality was not.

"Isobel, are you all right?"

She turned in the direction of Mary and the young Mrs. Crawley noticed unshed tears in the older woman's eyes as nystagmus forced them to dance. "I heard a little of what you said to Matthew and you're right. You're right."

Mary was going to say something but thought better of it. She left Isobel and went in search of Dr. Clarkson. She knocked on his office door, "Come."

She walked into the office and saw him behind his desk tackling a stack of papers. "I think things will be a tad smoother."

Clarkson shrugged, "Even if it isn't it's already quieter."

"I hope it's not the calm before the storm" Isobel said with no hint of mirth.

Mary watched as something flickered across Clarkson's face, what she didn't know was that he was thinking of the first time he had Isobel had made love-during a storm. "I like storms" he said before smiling at her politely and putting his pen back on the paper before him.

Knowing that pile of papers would always be there he left the hospital just as the sun was kissing the tops of the hills. His night staff as well as his day staff assured him that if were to be needed that they would call for him but for the time being he should go home. In the cottage he found it quiet, he didn't see Isobel in the hospital when he left but that didn't mean she wasn't there. He began his routine of placing his bag near the door and hanging his hat and coat on the coat tree. His fingers unlaced the bowtie at his throat before his left hand nimbly released the shirt buttons at his throat before he ran his hand under his shirt to scratch at the back of his neck. Needing a drink he moved to the small table where the decanter was and found a whisky already poured. He checked for telltale markings of lips to see if it was Isobel's glass but found none. As he picked up the tumbler he saw a handwritten note and froze. It was Isobel's hand. She still had a good flowing script. Her blindness had made spacing awkward he could see smudge marks on the paper no doubt from her fingers of her other hand to try and gauge width.

_I'm sorry. I need you. I want you. I love you._

He stared at the words again, somehow thinking that they would vanish or rearrange themselves into something completely different on the page. Putting the drink down he used both hands to hold the paper. She had to be here, turning on his heel he moved toward the bedroom. He found her sitting on the edge of the bed hands in her lap. Almost looking like an errant school girl waiting outside the headmistresses office. She looked scared but he knew that it was not of him. This whole situation had been traumatic for everyone. He had tried to help Isobel but she had pushed him away literally and figuratively. Yet now here she was.

He walked up to her his hands reaching for her face, the note she had written fluttered to the bed. "Forgiven" he whispered to her although there really wasn't anything to forgive. Yet he knew she would keep trying to right a perceived wrong until he told her to stop. It felt like years since they had last been with one another. Richard didn't want a quick tumble in the sheets, he wanted to take his time, worship the woman the loved. His hands went to the top of her head before his fingertips began a massage of her scalp. The action was two fold, the first was that it would relax Isobel and the second it would allow him fell the pins in her hair and remove them. She could hear them land on the bedside table in muted clicks. Isobel had been in the medical profession so long that even on her days off she wore her hair up and away. Richard didn't care how she wore her hair for she was always lovely. Nonetheless he liked being able to gently fist some while they made love.

Next came the removal of her dress. Efficiently he stripped her and her own hands worked against his clothes. His jacket fell to the floor and her hands flew to his belt. Soon both were free from their clothes. Isobel found Richards shoulders and ran her hands down along his biceps, down to his elbow, along his forearms to his wrist until she encounter a hindrance-his watch. With the heat of season still lingering he had been wearing lighter suits. His waistcoat had been relegated to the back of his wardrobe to keep cool. Without a spot for his pocketwatch he went back to wearing his wristwatch which he had worn constantly during the war. Isobel could feel the leather band against her skin.

She was still sitting on the bed while Richard stood in front of her. Tilting her head up he leaned in to kiss her. As his lips touched hers he felt the ache that he had described to her in his letter abate and then rise in him. Soon the touch of her lips were not enough to alleviate his need for her. He didn't have to wait long for her arms encircled him and drew him to her. Using her leverage she leaned backwards pulling him along with her. Not wanting to rush Richard held out his left hand so when he fell he would fall to side and not land on Isobel. He could feel her annoyance at his move but quickly soothed her by lavishing her neck with attention. Kisses, licks and bites marked her skin. The bedroom was filled with the sound of gasps and the wet smacking sounds of mouths worshipping skin.

The syrupy drunken haze was beginning to surround them. Isobel could feel Richards arousal pressing against her stomach and was growing impatient. Her legs tangled around one of his seeking friction. Generally a move like this would have Richard rolling her beneath him but not today. He took a deep breath to steady himself before whispering, "Come here."

Moving towards the head of the bed he sat up, Isobel moved towards him, facing him to straddle him, when he stopped her his hands on her shoulders. "Turn."

Isobel was confused and it showed in her face. Richard's hands guided her to turn around, she was still in his lap but instead of being chest to chest his chest was pressed into her back. Apprehension began to fire through Isobel, she could feel Richard against her but this was different. She could feel his breath on back of her neck but not on her face, "I can't see you." she murmured with a tinge of panic.

"Yes you can." he said as he grabbed her hand and moved it behind her to trace his face. With her calming down he swept her hair aside and began attacking her neck again. Her fear transmuted into want and she moaned. His hands moved to her chest and cupped her breasts, this new position let him feel the weight of them in his palm. He let his hands wander, skimming down flanks and caressing a hip. He could touch what he wanted and could see what he was doing. In other positions he could touch Isobel but it wasn't as freeing as this. As he touched her there she threw her head back onto his shoulder and he could see the flex of tendons in her neck. Oh yes, he was going to take his time with her.

He knew better than to chuckle at Isobel's eagerness, instead he whispered into her ear all the things he wanted to do. As he spoke her hands were rhythmically clutching and releasing the bedclothes, they became twisted beneath them. Her legs shifted restlessly, her heels adding to the distress of the bed. It was becoming harder to focus and Richard anchored a hand on her hip and lifted Isobel and the wait was over. Isobel moaned in relief while Richard groaned in satisfaction they were together. Richard pulled her back against his chest as he flexed his legs. His feet were flat on the bed while he bent his knees.

This was so different than both of them were used to. Who knew that it could be like this?

Isobel was drawing in breath at a rapid rate. The new position allowed Richard to touch a place within her more frequently. This new sensation had her gasping.

Richard held her more tightly and didn't stop his movements. His mouth found her ear and commanded, "Breathe."

She shook her head, she couldn't.

"Breathe" the command came again. He knew she was close he was trying to extend her pleasure. If she would take a breath the edge would recede. However, she couldn't. His hand wandered and she broke. It was amazing to watch. Richard kept his eyes open and continued to move within her drawing it out. He himself was trying to take steady breaths and relax his muscles somewhat. It was not to be for her head turned towards his neck and her teeth scraped along it. The shout he emitted was loud as he came his arms tightening around her body to hold her close.

All had been forgiven, later in the morning Richard would discover that when they had made love her letter to him been under his lower back. The sweat from his body had transferred some of the ink, a mirror of her writing had been imprinted onto his skin only two words were legible.

_want you_


	34. Chapter 34

Matthew and Isobel had become models of decorum and Dr. Clarkson granted Matthew's wish to return to the Abbey with his wife and son. He still needed physical therapy but that could be done at the Abbey. He was no longer in danger for infection and there wasn't much else that could be done for him. Pain management and wound care was what was called for. Matthew and Mary dutifully listened. Richard felt a swell of love when Mary said, "If I have any questions I'll ask Isobel." To which Matthew agreed.

Therapy began slowly with Matthew, he had lost his dominant hand. What Matthew found the hardest to deal with was the awkwardness. Holding a teacup in his left hand felt wrong. His forefinger tired easily in the fine china handle so he changed his grip to hold the side of the cup. While it was not culturally perfect it helped him become more comfortable with his left hand. It was much more trying to fumble clasps and zips on trousers.

Eventually familiarity came, what Matthew really wanted to conquer was writing. He held the pen as he would in his right hand but he couldn't seem to write in straight line. During a visit Dr. Clarkson saw his frustration. He grabbed the pen and showed Matthew a grip telling him, "hold it like this, gives more control." before scribbling a quick list of items. Matthew regarded his stepfather, "I didn't know you were left handed."

Richard smiled, "Good."

Matthew was confused, "Wait, why? At the cricket match you batted as right handed man would. I've seen you throw as well."

Richard shrugged, "How I was taught, my Father and Mother were right handed, never occurred to them to show me a different way. I'm right handed with a bat or a racket" He pursed his lips in thought, " and lawn bowls that type of thing. For writing and stitching, things that are intricate, I use my left hand."

Matthew put his pen down and turned in his chair, "Why keep it a secret?"

Richard made a gesture with his hands, "Well it's not, I just don't advertise it. If I remember correctly one in ten people are left handed. Mrs. Patmore the cook here is left-handed. Most schools used to promote right-hand only. It was hard enough moving down here, as soon as I speak I'm already labeled for having a Scottish accent. Now being Scottish and left-handed in an English town. Rather not be bothered."

"Are you catholic too?" Matthew asked his eyes dancing in mischief.

Richard merely raised his eyebrows causing Matthew to laugh out loud. He released a groaning sigh before picking up the pen, "Will you show me again?"

Richard grabbed another writing utensil and showed Matthew how to hold his pen. Matthew slowly began to ease back into his life. It helped that Tom was exceedingly patient with him, he never rushed to help him when he was looking for a particular figure in a ledger. While to other it looked like Matthew was floundering Tom knew better. He had seen the look on Matthew's face many times upon his own, when he was desperately trying to find his place with the others at the Abbey. Going from chauffeur to husband of a Lady still had the village whispering but he had learned to ignore them. Matthew was still the heir however, he knew that village too had begun whispers that the title should bypass him and go straight to George.

Thinking of his nephew Tom smiled, his daughter had become fast friends with her first cousin. The two were nearly inseparable. This fact gave him hope for a good life at Downton. Seeing Sybbie and George was allowing him to slowly descend the mountain of grief. The weeks gave way to months and Richard found he was becoming tired. He made arrangements for one of the younger interns to take more of his workload. After dinner one night Richard and Isobel found themselves walking through the village and he brought up the subject of retirement. Isobel listened intently but couldn't help imagine the travel that they would now be able to do. She reached for his face, "Without having doctor as your occupation what will you become?"

He smiled warmly before cupping her face, "Yours" he declared before kissing her soundly.

* * *

**A/N: David Robb did an interview in a card shop where he mentions being left-handed. I do hope you have enjoyed this, please let me know if you did.**


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